


Green Thief, Red Hunter

by bastardcustard



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, adrian is one awkward dweeb when he has to talk about feelings, alucard snaps at thirsty fairies, and posing in illusiory outfits, and wearing ridiculous and sexy outfits, can this be considered fake dating anymore, changed the rating for posterity sake, content warning: mentions of suicide, more ridiculous tags will be added, sexy stuff happen cause of course, sorry people i'm bad at planing, sypha either worries a lot or is a ball of mischief, sypha learns illusion magic, talking about feelings, there will be dancing, trevor is a dumbass who can't decide on what he feels, trevor learns he's got one sweet ass, will this help anyone? fuck knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastardcustard/pseuds/bastardcustard
Summary: There's tension in the fae world, as the petty action of some high ranking fairies could potentially spark a conflict between the Green Court and the Red Court. And to prevent this from happening, an item must be recovered from the Red Court and handed back to the Green Court. And just as everyone's wringing their brains for a solution, Trevor and Sypha decide to spend the night nearby a fairy ring, making them ideal candidates for getting roped into fairy court shenanigans, along with Alucard, since they've got no means by themselves to do so. Suppose showing up to a fae party with your two favorite, stupid and unlucky humans counts as fake dating, right?





	1. Roped in

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea on a whim, and it's also yours truly's first fiction so there will be some wrinkles here and there.

“-and that’s how we got out from that.” Says Sypha, as she stirs in the pot hanging over the camp fire they’ve just started in the middle of a clearing, where they decided to spend the night in. It’s a warm night, so she’s cast her Speaker robes on a log, next to Trevor, who’s gazing at her, elbows on knees, his shoulders relaxed. They’ve been on the road for a while, and her hair’s grown longer, he deduces. It’s gotten about halfway down her neck by now, the looser longer strands now forming bouncy ringlets, which she pushes behind her ear constantly. His gaze moves down to her back, then her shoulders. She’s taken to train with him, now welding the quarter staff quite competently, and had become more toned since. The extra bulk has stretched the scar on her shoulder; his eyes settle there for a moment, and he loses track of his thoughts.

“Trev? Hey Trev.” He snaps back from his reverie, his back straightening. Sypha’s turned at him, still crouched by the fire, and she cocks her head to the side with a smile.

“What are you thinking of?” she muses, and Trevor could swear that she grows little impish horns as some hair strands shift from the movement.

“Nothing.” He admits nonchalantly, and leans back further. “But when’s that going to be finished.” A corner of his mouth twitches as he points at the pot, and Sypha makes an unimpressed expression. “Come on now it’s been a long day, a man’s gotta eat.”

“All we did was to leave Brasov and stop here.” She retorts, turning back to stir the pot one more time before settling besides him on her robe. He glances between them and sees her hand splayed on the fabric, and feels the need to hold it.

“It was boring, just remainders of the night hoard.” He complains, gesturing with a hand, and as he settles it down he makes his move, covering Sypha’s. She shoots him a look, another smile pulling at her lips.

“You’d think they’ve been gone by now.” She suddenly sounds a bit more serious. “it’s been a while since-“

“We defeated Dracula, yeah.” He watches her as she moves her gaze somewhere else, her expression growing thoughtful. Her hand moves under his so their fingers can intertwine, and he gives her a light squeeze.

“When do you think we’ll hear from Adrian?” she asks, and looks back at Trevor. There’s a mild undertone of worry to her voice, and he scoffs.

“You wrote to him before we left, remember?” he responds, gesturing with his free hand in the general direction from where they came from. The wagon’s stopped nearby, close enough to the dirt road off which they came from. The horses are tied nearby to a tall oak tree, grazing at the shoots and leaves on the forest floor. “Now we’re on the road, it’s not like he can find us here in the middle of nowhere. He’ll most likely send answer to where we’re gonna arrive.”

She responds with a non-committal noise, and shrugs slightly. Trevor turns his gaze to her; her expression hasn’t changed much, if anything it seemed to have grown more distant. He blinks, and he shuffles on the log closer to her, and gives her leg a small nudge with his knee.

“You seem worried.” He adds, and she turns her head to look at him. It just strikes him how much her eyes reminds him of a doe, and now especially.

“You read his last letter too, you know.” She responds, and furrows a brow, as she does when she’s thinking sometimes.

“Just cause it was short doesn’t mean that shit’s on fire now.” He rolls his eyes, trying to make light of the situation, and he takes his hand off hers to touch her shoulder. Trevor can understand to why she’s worried; they left Adrian alone in the once-traveling castle, and even though that’s what he wished for, considering the events that went down in there less than half a year ago, Trevor can only imagine that he’s had to deal with some pretty intense thoughts and emotions. It’s not easy losing your loved ones, Trevor knows personally, but there’s a special kind of terrible when you have direct implications in the process. And even though it’s Dracula, he is – was, still Adrian’s father.

He feels Sypha lean into the touch, and she puts her cheek on her shoulder, which prompts Trevor to move his hand against it. She looks up at him, with those doe eyes, and Trevor wonders if she’s aware of how much he wants to lean in and, at least, kiss her forehead.

“We’re nearby, aren’t we?” She speaks softly, raising her head to relish better in his touch, and move closer to him on the log.

“Near-by?” he blinks, as if he forgot what they were talking about.

“The castle.” She responds, giving him a slow blink, like a cat lying by the warm hearth.

“You really want to visit, don’t you?” a smile tugs at his lips, and he gives her cheek a light pinch.

“Well, yeah. He’d need some company. Don’t you wonder what he’s up to?” she muses, and Trevor snorts, like he just heard a particularly rich joke. He’ll admit, Adrian is the least worst of all the monsters he’s met, but he’s a monster nonetheless, if only just halfway. And he’s a Belmont on top of that, sworn enemy of monsters and protector of mankind. He’d rather not dwell too deep on any possible feelings he’d have for him, aside for being mere acquaintances. If anything, just thinking of it makes a part of him squirm uncomfortably, mostly revolted, partially afraid. He quickly kicks the thought out of his mind and shakes his head.

“Oh come on Trevor.” Sypha frowns at him in a mild fashion, and elbows him in the ribs.

“Stop projecting your fancy for him on me.” He retorts, shimmying to the side just a bit. She doesn’t respond, instead resorting to glaring a hole into his skull. He groans, his shoulders going slack.

“I also like you, Trevor.” She finally responds, and turns her gaze away, but he can still see how the tips of her ears turn pink, even in the dying evening night. And it’s not like they’ve started wearing their hearts on their sleeves just yesterday. Holding hands, leaning into each other when sleeping, long meaningful looks, it’s been a silent, physical display of each other’s affection in which they both engaged and understood. And yet here they are, as Trevor catches himself leaning back, his face growing hotter than before.

“I’ve been thinking to check on him for a while, and I thought-“ Sypha turns her gaze at him and his eyes grow just a touch wider. “That it would be nice, you know?” she finished by cocking her head to the side, and Trevor sighs. Can he really say no to those big, doe eyes?  
But their little moment is interrupted suddenly, as Trevor’s eyes suddenly dart to the surrounding woods. The horses’ ears also perk up and they look around, alerted by something. It’s grown darker by now, and the song of crickets had gone from a soft hum to an all encompassing chorus of insects. Sypha catches onto it and sweeps her gaze around, uncertain of what’s going on. It’s a still day, with little wind, but then it comes. The leaves rustle, as if something has quickly passed through them. And it’s seemingly coming from above.

Trevor has dealt with a lot in his life. Enemies coming from the left, the right, many from behind, plenty straight ahead, more rarely from below, but not that unusual to come from above. He stands up, shoulders tensing up, and his hands rests automatically on Morning Star, as he keeps his eyes on the foliage above. He wouldn’t be able to see what exactly it is, as it’s almost summer, but he will catch on its location. Another rustle and his eyes dart to the left. It had stopped. Another rustle, and his eyes move to the left. He frowns, whatever it is it’s doing a poor job at sneaking on them. Sypha stands up as well, and she looks at him in a questioning manner.

“Do you think it’s something?” she asks in a low tone, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, but I’d rather be-“ he starts, but is cut short when a dark, and vaguely humanoid figure plunges from the foliage and lands, right on their campfire. At this point Morning Star is out, and ice has manifested in Sypha’s hands, as the figure realizes its mistake and jumps out of the flames. It’s tall, it’s dark, it’s cloaked, and it’s for certainly menacing. Also, it’s probably fireproof, or at least fire resistant, as it has yet to show signs of having caught fire. The figure’s head, tall and vaguely spiked on top, seems to rise, and the two catch the view of glowing yellow eyes. Then the thing lets out a guttural sound, which takes them some seconds to conclude that it’s a laugh.

“What the fuck are you and what’s your business?” Trevor decides to break the ice, taking a half step forward in the intruder’s direction. The horses start to show signs of nervousness, neighing and tugging at their reigns. The intruder squints their eyes at the two, and without a word, raises an arm to the side. A part of Trevor screams to react, but he just stares dumbfounded at the item the intruder manifests. It’s the food pot, still hot and steaming off the fire.

“Hey, give that back!” he yells out, pointing at the pot with his free hand. In the meantime Sypha just stares at the intruder just as dumbfounded as Trevor did, not knowing how to react. This must be some joke, she thinks. And yet there’s no punchline, as instead the figure turns on its heels and darts into the woods, swiftly zig-zagging between the trees as Trevor cracks Morning Star in their direction, and missing as there are now trees in the way. Trevor grunts, yanks the whip back and bounds after the thief, yelling a string of choice words as he does so. Without missing a beat, Sypha follows them, calling out for Trevor as she does so. The thief only once stops to look behind at them, and seemingly stops just a short distance away. At this point Trevor has just about enough of these shenanigans, and whips out a throwing dagger to launch in the direction, as he approaches in bounds, with Sypha almost to his side, her hands armed with magic.

And here they find another clearing, smaller than the one they’ve camped in. Both stop and look around and back up into each other, in case of a potential attack or ambush.

“Where the fuck did it go?” he grunts, unsheathing his short sword. He’s not sure into what they just run into, and Trevor curses himself for grabbing onto the impulse.

“I don’t know, but this wasn’t the smartest choice we’ve made.” She responds, and scans the area for the figure in case it has hid somewhere.

“Heh, _we_? That’s a first.” Usually when Trevor bounds into something more dangerous than originally estimated, Sypha would talk his ear off about how stupid he must have been for doing so, often as she heals his wounds or bandages the ones that are too big to be healed in one sitting. At the beginning he used to loathe these sessions, but after a while he started appreciating their value for what it is, plain old criticism, as Sypha had soon learned how to offer it more deliberately. They even started laughing over them.

“Well sometimes I’m none the wiser.” She responds, and he can just hear the slight smile on her face.

Seconds pass and nothing happens. Eventually Trevor lowers his arm and frowns. Sypha continues to pay attention to their surroundings, trying to piece up why did the stranger wanted them there in the first place.

“Well that sucked. The asshole stole our good pot.” He sighs, and looks over his shoulder to Sypha, who has gone really still. Above them, the wind picks up, making the trees around them come alive with the song of wind whipped leaves.

“I think we have a problem.” She says, her voice catching in her throat like it does when she’s nervous.

“Don’t tell me that it was a distraction to rob us.” Trevor’s shoulders slump even more now, and he curses himself once more. Above them, the moon, nearly full, drifts into view.

“I think we’re in a fairy ring.” She finally completes her chain of thoughts, and indeed, all around the perimeter of the clearing, little white mushrooms had sprouted, forming a near perfect circle. She takes a half step back, and bumps into Trevor, who to her surprise has grown tense.

“Oh shit.” It’s the last thing he manages to say, before the world around them goes dark and constrictive, crushing. And just before his consciousness slips away, he thinks to himself, that this has got to be the stupidest impulse decision he’s done yet.


	2. Enter the Emperor Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I had like a page written of this chapter by the time I published the first one. I felt like the first one was a bit short, a bit on the lean side regarding plot and characterization and whatnot, so here's some more, just a bit more. In this chapter, the two find themselves in a strange place. Trevor feels helpless, then cleans his weapons and chooses the perfect pseudonym. Sypha has a staring contest, then a snuggle contest, and a laugh contest. More fairy lore confirmed. And a new character is added.

The next thing Sypha becomes aware of, is that she is laying supine on the ground. It’s hard and cold, but it’s also smooth. It’s not forest floor she concludes, which does not ease the ever growing nervousness in the pit of her stomach. What makes it even worse is that she can’t tell if she’s alone or not.

She concludes that the best course of action is to raise her head and look around, maybe, hopefully, it’s all a farce, and Trevor’s just a few feet away awaiting to see her expression. They had gotten into the habit of spooking each other, “to keep your wits sharp and weapons at ready” was Trevor’s piss poor excuse, after he dropped one too many stag beetles over her when she was crouched on the forest floor, examining mushrooms. The morning after, he found his boots frozen in a solid block of ice. Since then he’s learned to tone it down, and resort to different tactics. But even if this where a farce, the chances of finding such a surface, akin to a stone floor, in the middle of the woods is slim. Besides, Trevor is not that much of a jerk to pull such a move. And she’s a light sleeper on top of that.

The next thing that becomes clear to her is the smell. It’s like she’s in a flower field, if said flower field is so potent it makes her dizzy. Then she notices the sound. Aside the noise of wind thought the leaves, where the sound of woodland animals is missing, it’s been replaced by bells. Soft, distant bells. Not like church bells, more like chimes. And what she can only imagine to be the sound of an equally distant lyre.

There’s a sound of fabric shifting against fabric near her, and a soft groan she would recognize anywhere. So she raises her head, her vision blurry, and she spots the recognizable form of Trevor laying on the ground, much like her, and also just getting his wits about himself.

“Are you alright?” she manages to whisper as she brings herself up on her knees. The next thing she’s aware of is that a strong hand has grabbed her by the arm and is yanking her up on her feet. She yelps and turns to face whoever’s grabbing her, with the intent of punching them square in the face. Yet her fist meets up against something hard and smooth, unlike metal or wood. And then her eyes finally focus, and she realizes what she’s up against: a giant beetle. A giant rhinoceros beetle, that is somehow standing on two feet, and has hands instead of little claws at the ends of its limbs, and its wearing what looks like a light green cape, and it’s also carrying a long, brass colored spear.

“Speaker, don’t fight it.” Her head shoots back at Trevor, who’s forced on his feet by a June bug, who’s also walking on two legs, carries a spear and wears an ornate brass colored helmet. She blinks in confusion; he’s never called her that since after they met. But before she can ask him about it, the beetle tugs at her arm harshly, and makes a very human-sounding noise of impatience, before it starts to walk forward. The June bug does the same, and Trevor, very much unlike himself, follows obediently.

The two beetle guards are taking them what seems to be a long hallway. The hallway’s tall, with a vaulted ceiling, much like a cathedral, all cut from white stone and adorned with intricate details of vines and flowers, where actual vines and flowers aren’t growing, and its lined with tall stained-glass windows, cut into hexagonal shapes, and of various shades of green and yellow and pale blue, filtering in the warm light. Sypha glances to the side, trying to make out where they are. It seems like this isn’t the only hallway, as she spots another one on each side, held up on slender stone pillars, rising from a dusky abyss. Above it all, through a hazy mauve sky, a sun shines.

She then glances back at Trevor, who’s uncharacteristically cooperative in this sort of situation. He’s also looking round, though more discreetly. Then she sees why exactly he’s being so obedient; his weapons had been taken, his short sword hilt hangs empty from his belt, and she can only assume it’s the same story with the strap meant to carry Morning Star. He’s unarmed and vulnerable, and this hits Sypha like a ton of bricks. She draws a deep breath to settle the anxiety stirring in the pit of her stomach and closes her eyes for a moment. Don’t panic, she thinks, and clenches her free hand to kill out the flames she’s already generating. The last thing they need now is to provoke the soldiers, or make them think that they’re up for combat. The flames subside, and she opens her eyes, then her mouth.

“Where are we?” She asks openly, hoping that the beetles won’t become aggressive over it. Thankfully neither seem to care, or even notice.

“We’re in the world of fae.” Trevor responds instead. “And I think we’re going to have an audience.”

“Why is that?” She can’t help but to follow up.

“Hell if I know, these two don’t seem very talkative.”

“Shut your mouth, mortal.” The rhinoceros beetle complains in a growling, neutral tone. Sypha can’t really tell whether if it’s a man’s or a woman’s.

“I’m sorry to press, but where are you taking us to?” She looks up at the beetle, and notices how its little shiny black eyes shift, and she feels its gaze on her.

“The Emperor wants to speak to you. For what reason, it’s beyond us. We’re just soldiers in his Luminescence’s orders.” The June bug responds, in a higher, more melodious tone.

“How humble.” Trevor grumbles, and earns a yank from the beetle soldier. Again, she feels the fire flare at her fingertips, and she clenches her fist to hide it. They’re in middle of fae territory, creatures that Sypha was only mildly aware that they existed, let alone had any idea how to deal with. Given the fact that they seem to have their own realm, it means that their magical skills are greatly above that of a human, so trying to fight them through that is like setting a young child with a stick against an armed knight on horseback. All she can hope for now is that the fae are not looking for that, and that Trevor knows better how to handle this.

Eventually they reach the end of the hallway, ending in a pair of tall ornate double doors. The guards stop abruptly before they do, and jerk them back when they don’t catch onto that. Sypha can see that Trevor is trying his hardest not to retort to that with a punch, and she swallows dry. Then the soldiers strike the ground with the ends of their spears, in unison, filling the hall with a ringing noise that persists. As the echo dies out, the doors begin to slowly swing in, and the soldiers jerk them again to keep going.

Beyond the doors opens an absolutely enormous room, matching the vast hall behind them. The chamber is octagonal shaped, with tall, tall ceilings, taller than the hallway. Each corner is marked by a slender wisteria tree trunk that ascends towards the ceiling, obscuring the ceiling’s true height with leaves and heavy clusters of purple flowers; the scent they give off is dizzying. Each wall bears absolute giant stained glass windows, each portraying a figure, which Sypha assumes to be important members of the Fair folk. And in the middle of the room stands a circular platform, with a pair of thrones on top. And one of the thrones is occupied.

Sypha had only heard tales of how fairies look. Some describe them as unearthly beautiful people, with fair hair and skin, and wild, mystical eyes. Others describe them as little people, diminutive in size, with wild features more akin to animals. The man on the throne seems to marry the two descriptions in a surprisingly beautiful way. He seems to be between two ages, not too tall, not too short, not too big, nor too small. His hair is snowy white and trimmed rather short, and has a humble beginning of a beard; his skin is olive in tone, leaning more on green. He’s wearing a white suit with bright green trims and details, and silvery seams that glint in the warm light. What really pushes his looks out of the human realm are his eyes, wide and dark green like a clear, still pond, and his smile carries some seams unlike what she’s ever seen on an older person’s face. From his temples, a pair of feathery antennae extend backwards and curl to the back of his head, and point downward. From his back extends a light green cape with yellow details, which drapes stiffly to his sides. Wings, most likely, she concludes.

“Ah, what a surprise. Guests from the realm of men.” The man exclaims, smiling warmly at them, yet his eyes remain still like the pools they are. He makes a gesture with a white gloved hand, and the beetle soldiers release them, before taking a knee. Sypha takes a side step when released, moving closer to Trevor, who closes the gap between them. He gives her an overall look, and concludes that she’s fine, then he turns to face the man –the fae, on the throne.

“So you’re the Green Emperor I assume, huh?” he says, and Sypha can’t tell whether he’s aware of how arrogant he sounds or he simply does not care.

The Emperor raises his chin at them and smiles. “You’ve one courageous human, Trevor Belmont, but I must tell you right now, such transgressions will not be accepted from now on.” He says, an edge of hostility glinting in his tone. The way he said Trevor’s name gave her chills, and her eyes dart at Trevor, whose entire body tensed up upon hearing his name, and his eyes grew wide in horror. At this point another piece of information surfaces in her mind: names have power, and can be used to control things, including humans. Suddenly her mouth fills with a bitter metallic taste, realizing that the intruder that lead them there – she cannot explain it in any other way – has heard her say his name over and over throughout the evening, as it most likely has been spying them for a while.

She looks back at the Emperor, who’s expression has softened back to that gentle smile that never reaches his eyes.

“Now that I’ve made myself clear, allow me to introduce myself. I am Emperor Actas of the Luna dynasty, and welcome to my domain.” His smile swells into a prideful one, as he opens his arms, gesturing at the vast empty chamber, with its looming wisteria blooms and huge stained glass windows that color the light in various shades of yellow and green.

Then suddenly she feels a hand on her back, between her shoulder blades, forcing her down on her knees, and through the corner of her eye she sees Trevor receiving the same treatment. His face screws up and he bears his teeth, but remains silent, obedient.

“I had summoned you here with a request, Belmont.” The sound of his name on the Emperor’s lips make him tense up visibly, and Sypha thanks her lucky stars that her name is still secret, all the while cursing her own negligence.

The Emperor continues. “You see now, Summer Solstice is upon us this following full moon, and celebrations are made. Everyone will be at their best, best looks, best behaviors-“ The Emperor’s gaze falls on them like a cold shower. “ – and will be wearing their best outfits, their finest jewelry. However, word has come to me that my beloved consort has seemingly misplaced her favorite necklace.” The Emperor crosses his hands to his chest, and walks to the side, facing one of the windows.

The window portrays a feminine figure that bears a pair of large, open dragonfly wings, and is suited in an ornate armor, and carries a halberd in both her hands. The way the glass pieces had been cut and the shades that where chosen gives the entire work an air of ferociousness. Even the greens are much darker, much cruel than the rest of the shades used for the other windows. Even her expression, stylized and hidden behind an ornate helmet, denotes an abject lack of sympathy for anyone unlucky enough to come her way.

“So you want us to, search for it?” Trevor strains to keep his tone even and polite. The Emperor belts out a hearty laugh.

“Not at all, the more you two mortals are here the more you stench up this place.” Again, that edge of wrath slips into his voice. “The necklace has been stolen. And I know who had done it. But, I cannot send any of my subjects to retrieve it, no I cannot.” The Emperor turns on his heels towards them, his cape, or his wings, flutter from the movement, along with the long tails of his coat.

“And who took it that you need us oh so lowly humans to get it?” Trevor asks, and Sypha inhales, hoping that this won’t anger the Emperor any more, but instead he chuckles darkly.

“My sworn enemy, the Red Emperor - Howle.” He responds, and returns to his throne with slow, measured steps. “My wife and he are much similar, they’re both…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “Bloodthirsty. Demanding him to admit to thievery would be like calling him a coward, an insult for which he would go at war without a second thought.”

“If this conflict where ever to arise, would this affect the people of Wallachia?” Sypha finally opens her mouth to ask, not bothering to hide the worry in her voice.

The Emperor turns to face her, and she freezes, as if the dark pools of water that are his eyes had suddenly swallowed her in a chilly abyss. His expression changes slightly into something she cannot put her finger on, until he steps closer in her direction. She recoils, just ever so slightly, and the beetle soldier’s hand keeps her down. She swallows dry, and decides to confront the Emperor’s gaze.

“You are very correct, Speaker woman.” His smile returns, in a way Sypha is uncomfortably familiar with. It’s the same kind of smile for which she’s kept her hair short since she started growing, and for why she almost never removed her Speaker tunic, even in the hottest days, unless she was just with her fellow Speakers, or more recently now with just Trevor in her company. She can also feel Trevor’s eyes on her, though his gaze is full of worry, she assumes.

“You see, while we do have our own realm, we wouldn’t just want to carry our conflict out here.” The Emperor makes a face, a mockery of a sad pout. “It is already insufficient for us. But your realm, realm over we ourselves also have ownership, now that is open for conflict. And worry not, your kin has been trespassing upon our lands from the day you’ve arrived, you ungrateful, disrespecting swine.” Sypha does not flinch this time when the aggressive edge glints in the Emperor’s words, she refuses to break eye contact with him, she refuses to show weakness.

“… We’ll do it.” She hears Trevor speak, but does not look to over to evaluate his expression. “We’ll recover what was stolen and bring it back to you.” As he speaks the Emperor finally moves his gaze off of her and towards Trevor, then he belts out another hearty laugh.

“You have no choice. Unless you wish to remain here as servants and slaves…” The Emperor accentuates his last word by shifting his gaze back on Sypha, and she furrows a brow defiantly, and cocks her chin up. His smile only widens, and her blood almost boils over. She clenches her fists, nails biting into her skin, hoping against hope that the magic goes unnoticed.

“Very well then, I will send you off on your way. You have seven days and nights plus a night to recover my consort’s favorite necklace. Fail to do so and you shall be captured and brought back, and pray to your wretched God that your loved ones had left these lands if they do not wish to meet a similar fate.” The Emperor turns to walk back to his throne, waving them off dismissively. A knot forms in Sypha’s throat – they’ve been given a week to avoid a situation much like the one they’ve taken care of less than a year ago, only this time, if they fail, there’s no knowing if they could fix it. Besides her Trevor opens his mouth to protest, but suddenly the Emperor raises his hand, effectively shushing him.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Guard, bring the spy back in.” To the right hand side of the Emperor’s throne, a door opens, and a heavily armed bipedal cricket walks in, stops halfway between the door and the throne platform, and throws something against the floor. The thing –the person, she quickly realizes, lets out a pained yelp as it lands on the floor, then they shuffle up on their feet. She would had expected it to be the tall dark yellow-eyed figure from before, but this one’s nothing like it.

The being, a fae, barely stands taller than a child. It has auburn hair that falls in wiry waves around its strange face. White, ovoid, with no features other than a pair of large, expressive green eyes, and a pair of horns – or ears, that emerge from the top of its face and taper off towards the tip, as they gently curve inwards. It’s wearing what looks like a baggy, wide short sleeved brown coat with long coattails, over a flaring dress that’s seemingly made from pinecone scales. Its hands and legs are blackened, either naturally, or it’s wearing black long gloves and stockings. It also appears to be wearing a pair of tiny boots too.

The figure finally stands on its own two feet, and is looking up at the Emperor, its wide eyes are filled with fear, and its hands are clasped together under its chin. Then it takes a beat, and does a little nervous curtsy; its dress crinkles softly from the movement.

“Ah-aye-aye-ah y-your Luminance, how are you?” It has a distinct feminine voice, high pitched and shaking with an unmasked nervousness. The Emperor seems to take neither amusement, nor annoyance from this display though. His expression is solemn and calm.

“You know your crimes for why you where punished to bring these humans here, now here is the second part of your punishment: you will make sure that these humans will recover the stolen item, do you understand that?” His tone is authoritative, firm, and demanding, and the little fae nods while wringing its hands again.

“Y-y-yes y-your Luminance, like you s-said.” The fae looks over at them for a brief moment, and more panic seems to fill her eyes. They’ve probably expected, or hoped, to never have anything to do with Trevor and her, let alone have them find out it was them who got them here in the first place, but here they are, being ordered by the Emperor to accompany them.

“Very well then, you are-“ Before the Emperor can finish his sentence, another guard, a stag beetle with a wide brimmed green hat, rushes into the chamber from behind the throne, from where Sypha and Trevor are. Meanwhile the cricket guard shoves the small fae before them, who stumbles over and eyes them nervously.

“Your Luminance, the Empress- she’s coming!” the stag beetle yells out, catching his breath. The Emperor suddenly turns to the three, his eyes wide with fear. Behind them, the rhinoceros beetle and June bug guards step aside, allowing them to finally stand. Sypha shoots Trevor a look – he seems fine, albeit just as scared as she feels, and his eyes are affixed on the little fae. But before they can say or do anything, the Emperor raises a hand at them, and suddenly a powerful gust of wind picks them up, and throws them across the room. It went down so sudden that Sypha had no time to look towards where they’re heading, but just like earlier that evening, the world goes dark, constrictive and crushing.

 

For the second time this night, Sypha finds herself laying supine on the ground, coming back from unconsciousness. This time, she feels a familiar hand on her back, gently beckoning her back to her senses.

“Hey, hey wake up, Sy-“ Trevor catches himself from saying her name, and as she rises to her knees once more, she finds herself just out of the meadow where the fairy ring grows, and just away from them raises the small fae, from between a growth of ferns.

“Sypha,” Trevor continues in the softest of whispers, and he leans in closer to make sure it only reaches her ears and her ears only. “This is bad, we need to get to the castle right now.” She’s been travelling with Trevor for a good while now, she considers, and they’ve had their fair share of experiences. But until now, Sypha has never seen Trevor this distraught. His usual cool and dismissive demeanor has went out the window, and has been replaced by a thinly veiled panic. He had definitively never had a deal go that poorly before, and probably never dealt with the Fair Folk. But neither did Sypha, and now she finds herself in this position. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then she seizes hold of Trevor’s shaking wrists. He jerks slightly, not expecting that, and she opens her eyes, gazing into his.

“Trev.” She begins, mustering all the calm she can from within herself. “I know this is a scary situation, but please, you must stay calm.” His brows knit up together and his wrists jerk from her hold, but she maintains her calm, keep her eyes gentle and her grip firm.

“Trev, look at me, please. Take a deep breath now.” She demonstrates by taking an obvious, deep breath through her nose, and slowly exhales out through her mouth. It takes a beat, but then Trevor follow suit. One, two, three. Slowly the panic in his eyes seems to wean out, and is replaced by alertness. His hands stop shaking as much, and soon he moves his hands so that he can hold hers. His shoulders finally relax and he seems a lot more collected than he was a hot minute ago.

“Better?” She asks, bringing their hands together, and leaning in just a touch more.

“Y-yeah I am-“ To her dismay his eyes grow wide, and the panic returns with a vengeance. “Oh fuck my weapons.” He follows with a trembling voice, and begins to look around. Then from their side comes a rustle; the small fae approaches them, its eyes grow wide when they both turn to look at them, and it brings its little hands higher up under its chin. It’s also carrying a leather sack.

“Ummmm, hey?” It starts, furrowing a brow cautiously. “Sorry to uh, interrupt your little moment but uh-“ It holds out the sack, and it clinks and rattles, as if it’s filled with a bunch of metallic objects.

“I uh, think that this belongs to you.” She stares at the sack for a moment, then she shoots a glance at Trevor, who is also giving her a cautious look.

The fae sighs, sounding exasperated. “Oh come on people, it’s your stuff human Trevor. Your terrible terrible chain whip and your equally terrible sword, take them.” They jerk the sack in Trevor’s direction, after which he reaches out and takes it, then he opens it and- When the turns the sack upside down, letting the contents spill on the ground between them. Morning Star slides out unceremoniously, the short sword needs a bit of a jostle to become uncaught and clatter onto the ground, and a few throwing knives tag along, all souped up as finally the food pot comes clanking down on top of everything.

“… the Emperor told me to put the pot in there, then the guard put your stuff in there and I told them – my guys there’s a pot of food in there, don’t put this guy’s weapons in it, and they were like – oh shut up you pathetic little wrench, and then you guys started waking up and-“ The fae runs out of breath trying to explain itself for the situation, but neither of them responds to it. Trevor seems to be keeping his tongue as to not have to deal with more fairy shenanigans, but she knows for a fact that he’ll bitch and complain over the state of his weapon. Morning Star, for sure, will be the worst to clean up.

“Hey, hey now.” Sypha starts, and reaches over to the fae. The fae jerks in surprise when her hand nearly touches theirs; she can’t tell whether it is from disgust or from fright, Sypha chooses not to dwell on that.

“It’s alright.” She continues, and offers them a kind smile. “It’s been a stressful evening for you and us alike.” She adds, and Trevor grumbles under his breath about something, as he picks his weapons, and picks the gross of the stew off of them.

“Psh, yeah right.” The fae rolls their eyes, its shoulders slouching in a dejected fashion. “I’ve got accused of treason and you two just learnt that his Highness-“ the fae pauses, choosing its words carefully. “Has issues with controlling his wife’s temper. Yeap, that’s what I meant.” They plant their hands on their hips, making the dress crinkle and they puff out their chest proudly.

A small chuckle finds its way in Sypha’s chest, not having expected that. And then again, it’s been one rough night so far, and it’s far from being over.

“What is your name?” She asks, and puts her now extended hand on her chest. “Mine is-“ She pauses, and considers it for a moment.

“You’re not going to tell me your real name, aren’tcha?” The fae raises an eyebrow at her incredulously, to which she chuckles and shakes her head.

“No, but you can call me-“ She pauses, again, and chooses carefully. “Drona Dearborn.” She concludes, and offers the fae a warm smile.

“Hmm. You know what? I like it, it suits you.” The fae then extends one of its hands out for a shake. “They call me Little Pinecone, and yes that is totally my not real name or in fact a pseudonym cause only an idiot would give out their name to the fairies, cause we truly love to use that to control people.” The little fae, Little Pinecone, concludes, and gives her a firm handshake.

“I didn’t give my name.” Trevor retorts, flinging a piece of mushy carrot from between two links of Morning Star. “And yet how the fuck did Emperor Actual Pain-in-the-Dick knew mine?”

“Mmmmm weeeeeeeell…” The fae’s voice goes up an octave, as its eyes dart away from them, looking like it’s trying to look into the back of its head. “I uh, did hear your companion here Miss Drona say your name…”

“She never used my last one.” He gives the fae an unimpressed, and questioning look.

“You better thank that fame of yours, human Belmont.” The fae retorts politely, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Unlike my fellow fae who are too good to know what goes down in here, I heard the stories, and I recognize the crest on your shirt.” Little Pinecone jabs its finger at Trevor again, pointing at the left side of his chest.

“Oh, fuck. I should had hid that when I had the opportunity.” He groans, defeated, and as he’s now relatively satisfied with how clean his weapons are, he stands up, and motions to the two to get up as well. “Come on, we need to hurry.” He adds, and Sypha hurries back on her feet, dusting whatever dirt has caught to her tunic and skirt.

“Back to the horses?” Little Pinecone asks, and begins to scamper in their wake, much like a child trying to keep up with the grownups.

“Yeah yeah.” He waves the fae off, then he turns to Sypha, lowering his tone. “I do not trust that thing one bit.”

“I don’t really, either.” Sypha responds in a similarly shushed voice, and she throws the fae a glance. It had stopped in its tracks, and it’s looking behind from where they got up from, then it dashes back there. “But what other options do we have? Is there a guarantee that Adrian can help us? Can he help us get into a fairy court?” She stops herself, afraid that the more she does, the more her own panic will bubble to the surface, and threaten to take over.

She then feels an arm drape around her, and looks up to see Trevor giving her a gentle, calming look, and his arm brings her a little closer.

“Now don’t you panic on me, miss Drona.” He tries to crack a joke and make it sound funny, and to her surprise, it does arise a chuckle from her.

“Now listen, we need to get there as soon as possible. What we do from there, we’ll decide when we arrive. Okay?”

“The moon is important!” A small voice shouts from behind them, and Little Pinecone comes barreling through the ferns, emptied food pot now held high above their head, wrapped in the sack. “The best way to get in there is during the full moon, the Red Court likes to party during that timeframe. And Solstice is nearby, so it’s going to be an even more extra party.”

Eventually they reach the site of their former camp. The horses neigh and snort as Little Pinecone bursts through the underbrush, with the two in tow. By that time the fire has died down to embers, and the moon has passed overhead, now it’s filtering through the trees, dappling the world around them in silver light.

Sypha walks up to the log and picks her robe off it, giving it a shake to remove any insects that might had crawled in and over it, and then slips it on. It smells of the road and sweat and the outdoors in general, and it makes her uncomfortably hot at times, but in times at this, it feels like a comforting hug, that washes away all the discomfort she’s felt while defyingly staring back at the Emperor, refusing to show meekness or fear.

It doesn’t take them long to tie the horses back to the cart, and hop back in, and soon enough they’re back onto the dark, nighttime road.

“Gee, is this how you two travel?” Both Trevor and Sypha jolt, remembering suddenly of the small fae that has come along with them, and is now sitting in the back of the cart with their supplies.

“It’s darker than, I don’t know, a well during the winter?” Little Pinecone adds, and shuffles its way between them, being small enough to fit between them without causing major discomfort, and yet Sypha can’t help but to shift her gaze from them to Trevor, who seems a bit more visibly miffed over this turn of events.

“Well sorry that we don’t have fancy fairy magic to guide us.” He responds in an irritated tone, to which Sypha tries to elbow him in the ribs, but is unable to without also elbowing Little Pinecone as well.

“I mean, you could ask me nicely to offer you a hand.” Little Pinecone responds nasally, and crosses their arms. Trevor gives Sypha a confused and disgruntled look, as he whips the reigns lightly against the horses’ backs. Sypha frowns at him and sighs. There he is, back to his usual crotchety self.

“Would you please help us see the road a little better, Miss Pinecone? Or Mister Pinecone? Or-“

“You know what just call me Pinecone. Or Piney. Or Pliny!” The fae’s enthusiasm only seems to grow with each name suggestion.

“Like the Elder?” Trevor adds, and scoffs in amusement. “You don’t seem the healer type.”

“Well neither was he and yet he still suggested people to lick pig trotters in order to get rid of baldness and suggested you put a head of garlic up your anus for a good night’s sleep.” Pinecone, or Piney, or Pliny, retorts, cocking its head up at Trevor, giving him an intense look. At this point Sypha just bursts into laughter, which make the horses neigh in surprise and Trevor pulls at the reigns to have them calm down. Meanwhile Sypha cannot control herself, she doubles over, clutching at her stomach as she simply cannot help herself from not laughing. It’s been a stressful night, one where she’s been lured into the fairy kingdom, forced to kneel before a fairy monarch, watch Trevor suffer the same treatment, all while unarmed and faced with the reality of being controlled through the usage of his name only, and had to deal with being stared down by said monarch in a way that makes her stomach turn and blood run cold. So yes, she really needs a good laugh.

“Um.” Pinecone, or Piney, or Pliny, finally adds, as Sypha is slowly coming down from her fit. “Well that was something.”

Sypha sighs, finally leaning back, and wiping a tear from her eye, before looking over to Trevor. He looks back at her with concern, and a gentleness he only reserves when she’s truly hurt or scared or vulnerable. She smiles at him, and not paying mind to the fae between them, she reaches out and touches his cheek, relishing in the prickly sensation of his beard. If only they were alone, only if so, she would reach over, and at least kiss his cheek. But they are not, as she feels the fae squirm uncomfortably between them.

“You know what, let me just-“ The fae holds out a hand and snaps its fingers audibly. And from between them flies off and ahead a firefly. Then two, then three, then a multitude of them, until the cart is surrounded by the luminous swarm, that blink and shine as if the night sky was brought down around them.

“That’s better.” The fae announces proudly, crossing its arms over its chest. And only then do the two break eye contact to look around; Sypha quietly praises the horses for not going off the beaten path, as she marvels at the swarm of fireflies.

“How did you do this?” She exclaims, reaching out for the closest insect.

“Oh, they’re not real, they’re just illusions.” The fae’s chest puffs more, filling with pride. “It’s my specialty.”

“So that explains why you where trice as tall and stupid looking when you stole our food.” Trevor concludes, and chuckles.

“Hey, I needed to get your attention, so mission accomplished.” The fae retorts grumpily, and elbows Trevor in the ribs.

“Now you two let’s not get into a stupid fight over nothing.” Sypha intervenes, putting a hand between the two, channeling some ice magic between them.

“So, where to now? You mentioned a castle?” The fae looks in between them, blinking curiously. The two exchange glances, and wordlessly agree to give them the minimum of information possible.

“Uh yeah, a castle.” She says, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah, its uh, of a friend of ours.” He continues the thought, putting a strange accent on the word friend.

“Ooooh, cool! Who is this friend of yours, i-if you don’t mind me asking.” The fae responds, shrinking back a tiny bit as it pressed on. There is a beat of silence, and both Sypha and Trevor stare ahead. Did they ever decide on a fake name for Adrian?

But before Sypha can say anything, Trevor does. “His name’s Cockchoker Notorious.” He says, with a blank expression and a very matter-of-factly voice. Sypha’s jaw goes slack as she stares at him with, wide eyed in horror.

“… What.” The fae seems just as shocked as her, if only in a more flat, deflated fashion, as if they just saw the least impressive payback to a hyped up moment. “Wow.” Sypha can audibly hear the fae’s face scrunching up, although she’s not sure if it even has a face as it has no visible mouth or nose. “That guy’s parents must have hated him.”

“It’s a self-declared title, don’t worry. He was loved.” Trevor does not skip a beat on continuing with this terrible charade, so Sypha elbows him again, this time harder, without regard for the fairy’s head between them. All she can hope now is that the castle is close enough for them to reach before too much time has passed, and before Trevor can spin more terrible lies about Adrian.

“You know what.” Says the fae, rubbing the back of its head where Sypha’s elbows made contact with it. “Just call me Piney. It’s simple, just like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mothballs this is a long one. Admittedly there's a bit more happening here than in the previous chapter. And I wrote it all in one sitting holy shit I hope I'm not going to lose steam from now on hahahah don't wanna disappoint y'all. Also Microsoft Word has formatted the text weirdly, thankfully that did not translated into the text when i copy-pasted it. Still needed to add spaces so it's not all one big hunk of text and a nightmare for anyone with ADHD or similar conditions to read through. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, please tell me if I skipped any errors or inconsistencies, and I'll be back to you soon with the following chapter. Hopefully by then they will be reaching the castle, cause they've got a heist(?) to plot. Stay safe out there.


	3. Shooting Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: mentions of suicide. If this kind of stuff upsets you, or could potentially do more than that, heads up and tread with caution. Other than that this is probably gonna be a bit of a more sad chapter, but it gets better at the end I swear. Adrian deals with loneliness. Sypha acts as a tamper. Trevor acts nervous. Piney slams the tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm not sure what to say here that I didn't say in the chapter summary. Enjoy I suppose?

Ever since that one terrible, terrible, prophesied night,  Adrian has kept himself busy.

That proved to be less difficult than he imagined. After all, Trevor has left him with the entirety of the Belmont family library in his care, to preserve and maintain the combined knowledge of Dracula and his vast scientific knowledge, and the Belmont’s bountiful collection of information on how to fight the forces of the night.  Seems simple enough.

He starts by attempting to fix the broken stairs leading down to the Belmont library. It can’t be that difficult to fix a set of stairs, now can it be? It didn't take him more than a week to realize that, not only with his meager architectural knowledge, and mediocre woodworking skills, will it take forever for him to fix the stairs, but he would also do a terribly poor job at it, and it might fall apart right under his feet. Not quite the way to go he’d envision for himself. He would had sighed, and closed back the Belmont library, and focus on the bigger, and much more visible matter, as it is above the ground – the castle.

The castle itself has never been a place of warmth and joy and coziness, least, not in a traditional way. Growing up he’s learned to love the drafty, dim corridors, the cavernous stairways, and the vast, mostly empty chambers that litter the structure. His father did his best to fill every room with something worthwhile; for his mother he even constructed a large greenhouse, large enough to grow sufficient produce for a person or two to live off comfortably, and sufficient space to spare for medicinal plants that she would had often used. He had also re-purposed several chambers into an indoor farm for livestock, with stables and a large area for them to move around. And there were plenty of them at one time. He’d assume he did that as he swore off human blood, most likely at Lisa’s request, and for her peace of mind. He had basically done everything in order to make her as comfortable as possible, offering her everything she could possibly need and desire, without having the need to leave the castle. But her true desire was to help others, her fellow men, the sick and the ailed, and to his father’s despair, this has brought her demise.

 Now these rooms lay in disarray, the plants had mostly wilted, and the livestock had mostly perished at the hands of the vampire generals or the hordes of night, and the magic that helped maintain them alive and well has dwindled, and there were no underlings to do the dirty work. So Adrian has decided to let go of the few surviving creatures into the woods, where he’d hope they’ll at least be free. The cattle and pigs made themselves scarce, whereas the goats and chickens had decided to stick around. This kept Adrian busy for a while, sorting a coop and a shed for them. But livestock, however amusing and lively they are, would never replace the presence of another human being.

The loneliness was often hard to deal with, as it played tricks on his mind. Truly cruel tricks. He’s lost count of the times he thought that he’s heard his mother calling out for him, to the point that one time, an entire shelf collapsed in the library behind him, after exceeding its capacity of holding, and he didn't as much flinch at it. And yet his mind conjured the image of his mother giving him a disappointed look, like the way she did when he was young and had done something mean spirited or in poor taste.  He’d screw his eyes shut, fists clenching, and he’d lift his head and swallow back the tears, then turn around and face the disaster. That shelf was ugly anyway, and desperately needed replacement.

But what was truly the worst part of the whole ordeal where crossing through certain areas of the castle. Areas that bear so much of the personality of his parents that just being there reminds him of the fact that they’re no longer there, as they lay there cold, empty and unused, devoid of life and purpose. His mother’s study and lab became places he could not walk into, in fear of his mind displaying some of his memories, to taunt and mess with him. His father’s rooms, his own library, his writing room, his study, and the observation tower now lay unused and untouched, as just walking by them makes him feel a great deal of pain.

But by far the worst room of it all, was his childhood bedroom. He’d simply pretend that room did not exist. In fact, he’s piled furniture, whole or broken, on both ends of the hallway, and would walk around the blockade each time he’d go from the main hall to the library, just so he could not acknowledge it, not acknowledge the presence of that room. And yet, most nights he can swear that he can hear his father’s final, broken words.

So he sinks back into work, reorganizing and re-cataloging every tome, every item, in the main library, all the while struggling to channel sufficient magic into the castle to keep it at least semi-functional. In order to avoid the uncomfortable rooms he’s made residence in the library, dragging in a fancy reclining couch in front of the fireplace, and clustering a few mattresses nearby, before burying them in piles of cushions and blankets. The thought of sleeping in a coffin made his skin crawl, he’d rather doze off in the couch whilst analyzing star charts, or conclude that he needs to sleep, and crawl into the disorganized mess that is the sleeping pile.

Days pass by, some better than others though. Some days he would manage to stick to his routine: take care of himself, make himself presentable, check the gardens and stables, catalog another section of the library, wind down by exploring the halls and the less visited rooms, and go to rest at an appropriate time. Other days he would find himself leaning over the banister at the top of the staircase of the main tower, gazing absently down at the chamber below. His hair hangs in a dirty disarray around his face, and his shirt hands off him disgracefully; sleep and peace has been eluding him for too long, his mind plagued with nightmares and a muted fury and so much guilt. Without thinking about it much, he jumps onto the railing, and takes a step forward. He’s done this before, only he would allow himself to drift downwards, in a controlled drop, light as a feather and steady as an acrobat on a tightrope. Only this time there’s nothing but falling, the final and factual sensation of his body speeding towards the ground with nothing to break it, no magic no nothing. He closes his eyes, and images start flashing behind his closed eyelids. The burning pyre, the massacre left behind by the night horde, his father’s crumbling form as he reaches out for him, his companions… His eyes snap open and his body freezes in place mere feet above the ground, jerking slightly as if the ropes of an invisible harness had gone taut, breaking the fall. He’d then drop on the floor, and his legs would buckle under him, sending him down to his knees, head bowed and hands splayed on the cold stone floor, his shoulders heaving painfully.

“I have a letter to write.” He says, in a small, strained voice, to no one in particular, once the heaving stops. So he pulls himself together, standing up, and sets off to the library. He has some correspondence to send out.

It’s been something more of a week since his last letter. Sleep has finally found him, and the nightmares had died down. Or maybe he’s been too exhausted to allow his brain to conjure anything traumatic. He sighs, sitting up from the pile of bedding that he’s been calling his bed for the past few months. Some would see as a whimsical display of nonconformity, but to him it’s a choice to avoid facing more pain. He shakes his head, concluding that he’ll have to make the change sooner or later. After all, he can’t be afraid of his own house forever. But instead of that, for now, he’ll tie his hair up in a ponytail and go up to one of the west-facing towers, where he’s been keeping pigeons.

He is not new to owning pigeons. After all, it was the way his parents would correspond when they where apart from each other, and how he would correspond with them when he would also be out and about.  He crinkles his nose as he steps into the chamber-turned-coop, as he’s hit by the smell of bird droppings, and is greeted by the flutter of wings and soft coos. There are at least two dozen birds inside, sitting on little perches, and grooming themselves, while the occasional one or two come in to join the rest, while another sets off, rotating between them. One such bird comes in flying from outside, and perches on a box intended for roosting. He notices that the newcomer, an older individual with a particularly shiny iridescent neck ruff, is carrying mail, under the form of a tightly wound up letter tied to its back with twine. He blinks, and reaches out to beckon the bird over, and removes its message.

He cannot help but to smile as he notices Sypha’s handwriting when he opens the letter; she’s been getting some exercise since they've decided to send each other correspondence more often.  Her handwriting’s small as is, but it’s much more legible than at first, when she used to only write the to him in the footnote, and the rest was written by Trevor, who despite everything still has the ugliest handwriting Adrian has ever had the dishonor of reading. And yet the letter before him read:

_Dear Adrian,_

_By the time you will receive this we would be on our way to Arges, and heading west, where  we think that there may be more monsters. We fought a creature Trevor called a “kelpie”, it’s like a horse, but it lives in lakes and swamps, and it catches people by luring them over to sit on its back, which is disgustingly sticky, then it would drown people in the body of water it lives. It almost caught us, until I froze it in place and Trevor cut off its head. Then we needed an entire day to remove the sticky spots it left on us. The weather was also not friendly, we had to hide in a watermill, luckily the miller was a nice man and he let us stay. I even convinced Trevor to shave for once. I hope the weather there is nice. And I hope you are well. And I hope that we can come see you soon. Trevor misses you, but don’t tell anyone!_

_Wishing you well_

_PS:  She’s just joking you know. I hope you are okay there, friend._

The letter ends with a crude drawing of a black horse, most likely made by Sypha, surrounded by some ink droplets. Whether it's Sypha or Trevor's interpretation of this creature, he can't tell.

A wave of warmth washes into Adrian’s chest, lingering onto his ribs like tree sap, and he brings the letter to his chest. He’s alone, after all, and the pigeons won’t spread the word that he, Alucard of Wallachia, is moved by such a letter. But it’s a letter from his companions, the only two people he had ever cared for so much as he does in a long time. It’s ridiculous, he thinks, it’s disgraceful, the thought creeps in, for him to be so emotionally invested in these two. A Speaker woman and a monster hunter, a Belmont nonetheless.  He frowns and pushes the thought down. Growing feelings for such people would probably the least scandalous thing that he had done so far. The worst, in his opinion, took place in this castle, and just thinking about it sends chills down his spine.

Now with a new letter in hand to answer, he can finally bring himself to smile. Smiling has become an alien concept to him as of lately, but he thinks it should be time for him to smile more. To even heal, or at least to start to. He folds the letter in half, and tucks it into his shirt, before picking the bucket of seeds he’s brought along for the birds, and deposits it on the floor, in the area with the least droppings. Within an instant the now three dozen birds flutter off their perches and attack the mound of food, flapping their wings and cooing gleefully. Adrian brings himself to smile again, and leaves the room.

The tower hosting the birds is connected with the main tower through a bridge. The skies are clear, with little white clouds peeking at the horizon, alongside the sun, as it had just started its ascension in the sky. There’s a bit of a breeze, that feels cool and pleasant on his skin, and he takes a deep breath, his eyes falling close as the sun’s warmth makes its way into his bones. For a moment he pities his father, for whom such an act would spell out disaster, instead of merely warming him up and bringing him peace.

His eyes snap open when he hears the distant echoes of a knock on the main doors. A long time ago they where bewitched so that no one coming a-knocking will be ignored, regardless of where anyone is within the castle. He furrows a brow, wondering just whom might be there at such an early hour. He moves a hand to where the letter is kept, and presses it against his skin. Could it be…? He scoffs to himself, and shakes his head lightly, admonishing himself for such ridiculous wishful thinking.    
“I’m coming.” He responds to no one in particular, in a bland tone, his voice creaking from disuse. And with that he turns to the main tower and walks inside. He does not hurry to check the door, and he especially does not launch himself off the banister and towards the main hall below. Not after that moment. Even though he is very steady in floating from high places, and he’s done that in the past plenty times, he doesn't trust himself to not lose his composure and pummel to the ground like a rock. In the meantime, the knocking persists, as if the person behind the doors is growing impatient. If these are potential burglars, they’re quite the polite bunch, and doing a really poor job right from the get go.

Eventually he reaches the bottom floor and hurries to the middle of the foyer, and with a dismissive gesture of the hand the door swings open, and he lets out one final exasperated sigh. Now it’s time to see who’s been bothering him.

The second  he sees who’s coming through the door is the second his heart drops to the floor, then it soars back into his throat, catching his words in his throat. Sypha stumbles in, as she was probably trying to push the massive doors open, and Trevor saunters in like he could care less to be there, and yet his eyes scan around the room carefully.

“Heeey, we’re here! Anybody home?” Sypha calls out, cupping her hands around her mouth, and Trevor stops beside her.

“You think he’s out somewhere?” Trevor asks, before he locks eyes with Adrian, as he’s traversing the hall with urgent steps. Even from that distance, Adrian can see how Trevor’s eyes grow wide for a bit, but he can’t tell the true emotion behind them. And before either can say anything, he’s already there and bringing them into a hug, his reputation and image be damned.

“A-ah- hey, you’re here!” Sypha doesn't skip a beat to hug him back, and Adrian feels his heart skip a beat. Trevor takes a second to realize what’s going on, and gives him a pat on the back.

“H-hey, wow, you’re excited to see us.” He says, almost hesitant, probably nervous. Adrian sighs, and presses his chin down on Trevor’s shoulder, in an attempt to hold him down even more. He can feel Sypha moving one of her arms off him to hold onto Trevor, displacing some of the grip off him and onto the other. In all his excitement he’s forgot about himself and he tightens his grip, subconsciously afraid of letting them go, of losing them, Lord forbid, and he grabs a handful at the backs of their shirts, curling in onto them, already feeling his bottom lids getting warm and heavy, but he bites it down and swallows dry, not wanting to go just that far.

“Hey buddy you’re kinda holding on a bit too tight right there.” Trevor’s voice comes out as strained in his ear, and Sypha makes a small noise in agreement.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I-“ He loosens his grip and leans back to finally look them over. They both look like they came fresh off the road, and they smell like it. Sypha’s hair is windswept and sticking out in various directions, and they both look like they need to catch on some sleep. They’re not in the utmost top notch condition, but they’re here and they both seem more at ease, more calm in his presence. And he can’t help himself but to smile.

“You both look terrible.” He says before he can put a filter in front of his mouth, and he regrets it immediately. But Trevor snorts and Sypha giggles, like it’s the funniest thing.

“Look who’s talking, you look like shit.” Trevor announces, and jabs a finger in his chest, right over a stain of some sorts that he had missed. “No really, you look like hell, what’s the deal?”

“Ah, well I-“ Adrian takes a deep breath and sighs. “It’s been a rough while. I’ve been, dealing with some things, with mixed successes. But I’m making through, and now, I am really happy to see you two.” He finishes by smiling at the two fondly, amazed that he’d manage to speak this much and not have his voice hurt.  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Sypha asks, her brows furrowing in concern as she takes a small step back to evaluate him. Adrian can feel his heart melt at the little gesture, and he raises a hand to touch her cheek.

“I’m alright, I promise.” He says gently, then he shifts his gaze onto Trevor. The man greets his gaze with a gentle look, but at a closer inspection there’s an urgent undertone to it. Something has happened, he concludes, and that’s why they’re there.

“Did something happen?” He asks,  looking between the two, and they look at each other, as if trying to decide who will be the one to break the news.  
“Um, you see, uh…” Sypha begins, clasping her hands together, then she pauses and holds up a finger. “Let me get someone.” And with that she leaves the two to walk over to the door, to Adrian’s confusion. Trevor takes the cue to gently wrestle himself out of Adrian’s grasp, smoothing his shirt down once he’s out of the other man’s hold.

“Piney? Piney, you can come in now!” Adrian can hear Sypha call for someone, and he frowns. Then she steps away from the door, and in walks a child with a weird white mask, an oversized coat and a dress made from equally oversized pine cone scales. Then this mystery child speaks, and it all becomes clear.

“Greetings and salutations, hail and well met, Mr. Notorious sir, my name is Piney, at your service!” The little figure marches up to him proudly and takes a deep, exaggerated, and pretty ridiculous bow, catching at its coat as they sweep their arm upwards, sending it fluttering, revealing an inner patchwork of greens and browns and blues and grays. Adrian takes a beat, moving his eyes from Sypha to Trevor in a state of confusion. First, what did they do, and second, why did they bring a fae into his house, and third, why is the fae referring to him as Mr. Notorious.

“Ah, greetings and, salutations to you too, Piney.” Adrian responds carefully, as the fae straightens their back and looks up at him with wide, joyous eyes. Then those eyes fill with the realization of who, or better said what he truly is, and they take a half step back.

“Eumh, e-excuse me Mr. Notorious, but I maaay need to borrow your human companions for a second.” The fae tries just too hard to be polite, as it clasps its little black hands under its chin. A smile tugs at his lips, in a weird sort of fashion, and he scoffs, amused, offering to Sypha and Trevor a dismissive gesture.

“But please, have your chat.” He confirms, and turns from the group to walk away a few good paces. As he does so, he hears the fae stammer in a shushed fashion to the two, seeming shocked and surprised of the predicament. This amuses him more than he would have thought.

“Augh, really, a vampire, you guys?!” he can hear the fae finally say; they sound quite miffed over the fact.

“He’s our friend, I’m sure he’ll understand.” Sypha gently replies, trying to de-escalate the fae’s alarm. Meanwhile he can hear Trevor chuckle up a storm. But before he can add to the conversation, Adrian looks over his shoulder and calls out to them.  
“You’ll find me in the kitchen when you’re done.” He says, and takes a turn to the right, musing on making them all a cup of tea, and chuckling over how quick the fae’s demeanor chanced when it gave him another take.

By the time the kettle’s on fire and he’s picked out some herbs for tea, the three enter the warming up kitchen, the fae clinging to Sypha’s robe like a child clings to their mother’s skirt.

“So let me get this right.” Trevor starts, as he puts his hands on his hips. “Fairies and vampires are enemies?”

“My father was not fond of the Fair Folk, he made that clear numerous times in the past.” Adrian confirms, dropping the bundle wrapped in cloth into the kettle to let it steep.

“Mr. Notorious sir, I am only here with the best of intentions at heart, I swear.” The fae quickly adds, much to Adrian’s amusement. He’s not the one to take pleasure from another one’s misery, but the fae’s nervousness is on such another level that he doesn’t know how to react besides having a chuckle over it.

“Now I am sure you’re not here with any ill will, or otherwise.” He responds, throwing them a look over his shoulder, and they retract behind Sypha. She gasps slightly, then she gives him a harsh glare.

“Really, Mr. Notorious, is this how you treat your guests?” She asks, crossing her hands. Adrian turns around to give her a gentle, fond look, and smile.

“My dear, I wouldn’t hurt a fly, you know that.” Trevor snorts by his side, and Adrian shoots him a look, then he gestures to them to sit at the large wooden table awaiting before the hearth. A white linen tablerunner lays unfolded along its length, and the benches on each side is covered in a thick, scratchy throw made of wool. “Please have a seat. I’ll serve you right up.”

Soon enough the kettle starts steaming, so he sets an assortment of mugs before them, alongside a small jug of honey, then he pours tea for everyone. The fae sits the furthest from him and closest to the door, across from Trevor, and next to Sypha, so Adrian sits besides Trevor, who tenses up just a touch.

“So from the top, fae; what happened last night?” Adrian asks, bringing the aromatic cup to his face.

“Soooo…” The fae begins, coughing to get its voice straight. “I've been uh, ordered to bring them in, so I lured them over to the closest fairy ring. That went easier than expected.” The fae perks up the tiniest bit, and besides him,  Trevor glowers, his shoulders slumping. “So they are brought before the Emperor Green, His Bastardly Luminance Actas of the Luna Dynasty, who basically told them to go to Emperor Red and recover this stupid necklace that his bloodthirsty crazy bitch of a wife had lost, probably while hate-fucking the Red Emperor for a good measure. And he demanded me I make sure that that’s what they’re gonna do, or else they’ll become slaves to the royal court. Oh and if that stupid necklace won’t be found, they’ll start a war. Such a stable empire with perfectly functional and rational leaders, aren't they?”  The fae finishes with a bitter smile in their voice, and they slam the tea like it’s a hard liquor.

Silence settles around the table, as Adrian is trying to process what information he had just been offered, meanwhile Trevor and Sypha gawk at Piney with wide eyes, having not expected to hear such words coming from such a little, unassumingly looking fae.  He moves his gaze to Sypha, who locks eyes with him, as he’s trying to tell whether this story is true or not. She blinks slowly, and offers him a soft, affirming expression, and she stretched her hand over the table to touch his. She looks concerned, but he can’t tell if it’s for the situation she and Trevor are in, or is it for him. Either way, he removes a hand off the mug to hold onto hers.

”I’ll need to write a letter.” Adrian finally sighs, rubbing his free hand over his face.

“No need to.” Says the fae. “You can just show up at the party, if you have anything good to show off. “

“Something to show off?” Sypha asks, frowning quizzically.

“Yeah, here’s the thing, the Red Court loooves to brag. Biggest bragsters on this side of the pond. They’ll brag about how big shits they take in the morning.”  The fae responds, gesturing with their free hand.

“Okay cool, but what can we show off then?” Trevor steps into the conversation and leans slightly over the table.

“Well he-“ And Piney points at Adrian, who blinks at them owlishly. “Can show the two of you off. You can be his arm candy. I mean you’re kinda nice looking people already.”

“Heh, kinda?”Adrian cocks a brow at the fae, smiling.

“Okay they’re gorgeous by human standards, and with me-“ And they jab a finger in their chest. “They’ll look even cooler. And you too will look like you’re there to brag about your looks ‘til the cows come back home.” The fae finishes gesturing, and then sticks a hand into their coat. “Now if you will excuse me, I desperately need a margarita.”

“What’s a margarita?” Trevor blinks, after a beat of silence.

“Oh you’re about to find out.” The fae responds, and produces a pair of limes from the coat. “Now does anyone have ice?”  
Adrian had not met many fae before, but after this sort of story, he will admit, that this is the most bizarre, furious, and oddly amusing one yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I expected this'll be a shorter one, but lo and behold there was more to it. Also worry not next chapter won't be as rough as this one I promise.


	4. Get Wasted Get Heisted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Trevor makes a stand, Sypha makes a move, and Adrian makes a confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I wasn't so happy where the first 1/3 or so of this chapter was going, granted that I wasn't so pleased how the previous chapter went, but I think I managed to redirect the freight train eventually. Warning for mentions of drinking, copious amounts of it. I don't know. I hadn't drank properly in years. Also don't drink kids.

The fae continues to pull stuff from the inside of its coat, which has Trevor stare at them in a dumbfounded state, as he cannot logically figure out how one could fit so many item on such a small person. Sure the fae’s coat is big and mysterious in qualities, but it managed to pull out two very large, and pretty colorful looking bottles, a pair of tall, shiny metallic cups, a small wooden bowl and a pair of small tongs, the tiniest goblet-shaped cup Trevor has seen ever, a strange press, like a nutcracker, with a domed end, a cylindrical wooden box of salt, a cutting board and a small knife, with a deer horn handle. Adrian has seemingly taken the cue that there will be drinking, and to his surprise he’s not protesting, instead he gets up, softly announcing that he’s going to get them some food. Sypha blinks at the amount of things Piney manages to remove from within their coat, and decides to answer the call.

“Oh, I can create ice if you need. Why do you need ice?” She asks, tilting her head curiously. “Also is your coat enchanted? Cause that is one terribly useful charm to have on it.”

“Ding-ding-ding, the million dollar question! Or, the million gold coin question. Currency is weird. But yeah it’s laced with fairy magic malarkey.”  The fae pushes the small bowl in Sypha’s direction. “Now surprise me with your ice powers, human Drona, if that’s your real name. My only request is to make them the same size, otherwise it’s gonna affect the drink.” And with that it starts at cutting the limes in half, humming a little tune.

“Would you be able to teach me how to do that?” She continues, bringing the bowl before her as she carefully generates little ice balls from the ether, and lets them clink into the bowl. Trevor spots through the corner of his eye Adrian’s return to the table, carrying a large cutting board in one hand and one arm hugging four cups in the other. He seems, animated, jovial almost, unlike when they met on the doorstep.

“Hey let me help you.” Trevor gets up to grab the board. A large hunk of cured bacon, a rather roughly shaped bread, a handful of green onions and a pat of goat’s cheese lay on it alongside a kitchen knife, and Trevor suddenly remembers he’s yet to have eaten since last night, to which his stomach groans audibly. Adrian chuckles and offers him a small thanks, before pushing the glasses towards the fae.

“I must admit I've yet to ever drink this early.” Adrian tells the fae, and sits across from them. Trevor puts the board in the middle between them and starts hacking at the bacon, and Sypha reaches over to tear the bread apart.

“I mean, depends on how quick you are to learn; and your friends and I had a rough night so-“  The fae pauses when it looks over at the board, and it eyes the cheese. “Is that what I think it is?” 

 “You mean the cheese?” Adrian raises a brow and the fae gets up on the bench, leaning over the table like an overeager little dog.

“There are few things that fairies can’t make right and dairy is one of them. Can I have some?” Piney gives Adrian the biggest puppy eyes, which almost make Trevor choke on a mouthful of bacon, and Sypha pauses from bringing the bread to her mouth to giggle.

“What’s the magic word?”Adrian asks, raising a brow.

“Don’t be mean.” Sypha finds Adrian’s legs under the table and gives him a mild kick, after kicking Trevor’s initially.  
“Pleaaaaase?” Piney tilts its head, and Trevor assumes it’s trying to smile, as its eyes squint in the appropriate manner.

“Now my dear, we shouldn't expect less than impeccable manners from the fairy itself.” Adrian responds mildly, taking the knife to cut off a piece and hand it over. Trevor raises a brow as the fae grabs the cheese, as it seemingly has no mouth to speak of, let alone to eat with. But his curiosity is quenched in the worst way possible; as the fae tips its head back, a weird sort of maw opens on the bottom of its chin, lined with little pointy teeth, like a pike’s, and it scarfs down its offering gleefully. Besides him Adrian jerks his head back slightly, clearly not expecting that, and across from him Sypha leans in to catch a better look of that.

“That’s so weird, can you speak?” She breaks the silence, setting her bread down.

“I sure can.” The fae responds as it licks the crumbs off its little dark hands with a shiny red tongue, like a cat grooming itself. For some reason, Trevor finds this endearing. “If you’ll provide me with more cheese, you’ll get full tutoring. And butter. Oh and cream, and I could make some Russian White with that.” Once it’s done it goes back to cutting the limes, and uses the domed nutcracker to juice them directly into the shiny metal cup. Sypha looks over to Adrian with the widest, most excited eyes, and he nods, shrugging and making a hand gesture to allow her to help herself. Something tells him that he might not see no dairy until Sypha's thirst for magic is quenched, or until Piney grows sick of it, which will probably never happen.

“That’s a generous offer right there.  And for such a small price, too.” Trevor swallows down the bite of bacon, and takes a bite from his piece of bread. He glances to the cheese, but decides against it, so he takes a sprig of onion instead.

“I meaaan, I would take firstborns as well, but that’s a different story.” The fae finishes juicing the limes in the cup, then they use the juiced halves to rub what’s left of the juice over the rims of the glasses, before dipping them in the salt box.

“What use do you have for newborns?” Sypha raises a brow, after chewing down a mouthful of bread, and washes it down with the tea. She looks over to Adrian and points at the bread as if he wants any, and he shakes his head in response.

 “If I were a higher fae, I’d have a servant. Lower fae tend to just eat them.” And silence falls over the table again, and Trevor almost chokes on a mouthful of onions.

“That’s barbaric.” Adrian breaks the silence after a beat, crinkling his nose in disgust.

“Well just under a year ago some crazy vampire bastard decided to wipe out every man, woman and child in this country, so I’d say we’re even in that regard.” Piney points at him with the little goblet, which they’re now using to add measured amounts from the two liquor bottles. Trevor makes eye contact with Adrian when he returns and places the salt pot in between him and the fae; he suddenly looks hurt, which makes him shoot Sypha a concerned look.

“That crazy vampire bastard happened to be my father.” He responds curtly, giving Piney a harder look than necessary.

“What?!” The fae drops the little goblet and spills some of the liquor on the table out of surprise and stares at Adrian for a good moment. Trevor doesn’t know whether to laugh or not, instead he puts a hand on Adrian’s shoulder and pats him in an apologetic fashion. Looks like the plan on keeping the fae in the dark is backfiring, hard. “Why am I always the last to get the memo!? Augh, I’m so sorry Mr. Notorious.” The fae curls its hands under its chin again, shrinking back in guilt.

“I would like to know the story behind why you think that my name is Mr. Notorious.” Adrian manages to gracefully steer the conversation away from having to explain himself. Now it’s Trevor’s turn to shrink back, suddenly regretting his decision on what pseudonym to give him.

“… Your friends told me.” They respond after a beat, matter-of-factly.

“Well, Notorious is quite an unusual name, and it’s a surname. What was the first name again?” Adrian leans in just a touch, cocking a brow. Trevor looks over to Sypha for emotional support, and she looks conflicted.

“It was uuuuuuh…” Piney looks between Trevor, who gives them a begging look, and Adrian, who’s half-lidded golden eyes are affixed on them, like a predator staring down on prey. “Tallblond? Talbot, Talbot Notorious.” Piney concludes, pointing at the ceiling victoriously. Adrian’s expression doesn’t change, aside from a raised eyebrow.

“We had to come up with something on the fly.” Sypha injects herself in the conversation, and reaches over the table to touch Adrian’s hand, giving him a soothing look and a smile. Across from her Trevor’s shoulders drop, as he praises Sypha to whatever god is listening, as Adrian’s expression softens.

“Mmmh, anyway.” The fae hurries up to finish preparing the drinks, finishing pouring the liquors in the tall metal cup and adding some of the ice in, before slamming the empty metal cup over the filled one and, standing up again, they start shaking the ensemble vigorously. The sound it all makes sounds a bit like how the fae’s dress does when they’re running or making sudden moves.

“Enough delay and banter, it’s margarita time!” The fae announces proudly as they pour the chilled drink over the ice in the glasses, and pushes one to each of them.

“I've never seen something like this before. Then again ice is not so readily available.” Adrian admits, picking up his designated glass and admiring the condensation on it.

“I don’t really drink, so this is new to me.” Sypha picks her glass and gives it a sniff, then she takes a tentative sip, and coughs. “Wow, it’s so strange. And, refreshing?” She takes another sip and makes a face, the liquor finally hitting her. At this point Trevor’s finished eating his bread and bacon, and doesn’t stall to try this beverage, as he grabs the cool glass and throws the drink down his gullet. This sends him in a cough fit, as it’s cold and salty and oh so sour as well, and it burns its way down his throat.

“Whoa there buckaroo, this isn't a shot. Or it may be if you’re ambitious enough.” The fae cocks its head at Trevor, frowning, and besides him Adrian gives him a slap on the back. Whether he’s aware of his strength or not, Trevor can’t tell, but the slap makes him lurch over the table. Besides him, Adrian cringes, suddenly aware of his strength, and gently rubs the sore spot on Trevor’s back, before he shrugs him off.

“You two can’t be drunk already.” Sypha furrows a brow at them, seemingly amused.

“Jesus fuck, duly noted. And no, he’s just being a dumbass.” He responds, once the itch in his throat ceases, and he shoots Adrian a brutal glare before he sips from his glass like a normal person.

“So, to come back to important matters…” Adrian follows example and tastes the drink, makes an affirming noise and settles it down. “We need to come up with a way to recover this item that has been stolen by the Red Court, right?”

“Yup.” Piney takes a generous sip from their drink, through that disturbing chin-mouth of theirs. “Now as far as I’m aware, the full moon parties are open to everyone, if you can access a fairy ring, or a fairy door, you’re good to go.”

 “And what’s a fairy door?” Sypha asks, as she serves herself with another piece of bread.

“A particularly big hollow in a tree, marked with mushrooms. I can grow a ring outside and we can hop in through there. It’s much easier than going on a lookout for a tree hollow. ” Piney gets up on the bench again, and Sypha takes the cue to cut them some more cheese.

“And once we are there, what then? Will we have to slip out of this party to look around for the item? Will this be a heist of the sorts?” Adrian continues, and Trevor rolls his eyes, he sounds so smart and polite it’s annoying him.

“No need to. Y’see, the Red Emperor has this tradition: if you can show up to his party and impress him with your looks or talents, he will give you an item of your choosing as a token of appreciation. Within reason, of course.” The fae continues, all the while it takes bites from the piece of cheese, seeming quite pleased with themselves. “I can create some illusory outfits for you all that will blow everyone out of the water, granted you kinda have to be cool with showing some skin. In a tasteful manner, mind you.”

“I do have some, more festive attires stashed away, mind you.” Adrian furrows a brow at the fae as he swirls his drink, and finishes it with one long sip, then he places the glass down with a bit more gusto than necessary. Trevor blinks, and he can swear that the dim lights aren’t playing tricks with his mind, and that Adrian is indeed flushing already.

“Do you have the means to conjure up two extra full outfits in uuuuh, a day or two maybe, tops? Besides, we’re talking fairy festive, not vampire festive. You need to wear something tight or revealing, preferably both.” The fae punctuates it by jabbing a finger at him, then they finish up what’s left of the cheese and starts mixing some more of the liquor to refill Adrian’s cup. And top up for the rest. Sypha takes the cue and conjures more ice into the wooden bowl besides her.

“Will we be able to see what you’ll do for us, Pinecone?” She asks, moving her still half-full glass over, to Trevor’s surprise. Normally she’s pretty against drinking, at best she’s neutral towards it, so seeing her indulge in it makes him do a double take.

“Sure thing I’ll ask your opinions first, ya gotta look as relaxed and in your element while there. The Emperor won’t be impressed if you keep fidgeting and trying to look as small as possible.” Piney gets up again on the bench to serve everyone up, then they sit back down, and gives Sypha a quizzical look. “You’d look nice with something off the shoulders, maybe backless, and really really vaporous looking, like a fancy flower.”

“O-oh, that sounds pretty nice.” She twirls a strand of hair and smiles, and Trevor swears that that is the cutest thing she’s done the whole evening. Then he feels Adrian shift a little closer and his shoulders tense up.

“And besides that, is there anything else we’ll need to be on the lookout for?” he adds, putting an elbow up on the table and leaning on it, away from Trevor, which makes him let out a sigh of relief.

“Well for one, none of you should eat or drink anything while there. Aside that it’s going to bind you to the fae of the Red Court, it’s gonna be so damn delicious that human food will forever taste like plain oatmeal by comparison. Like I’m taking here bout the plainest oatmeal you can think of, no flavor whatsoever, just a sad tasteless mush. Plus fae liquor can be preeeetty deadly when you just go ham on it, but as of lately I’ve heard that they uh, invite people who bring human liquor like these with them.” And they touch the two bottles that they’re using in the drink.

”So this isn’t fairy hooch, huh. Will you be making more before we go there?” Trevor chuckles after a sip, as he’s starting to feel the warming sensation alcohol always brings to him. Sypha shoots him a mild glare, to which he just winks. The fae snorts and lets out a small laugh.

“Oh but human Belmont, it’s not a good idea to go at the party sloshed, cause there’s another issue there too: you can’t dance with the other fae. Or let them braid your hair, but that’s gonna be an issue for Mr. Notorious only. Again, they’ll enchant you if you decide to join them, and they’ll make you dance til you drop dead, but even then there’s no guarantee that you will stop. You can dance with these two, sure, but the sneakier fae will take shape to look like them and will drag you away with similar results. You’ll need all your wits to you if you want to make it out alive.”

“Fucking Christ, if I knew there were so many don’ts then I would have just went home.” He downs the rest of his drink, as the thought of how they got in this situation passes his mind, and he cringes internally. Adrian follows suite, and surprisingly so does Sypha. The fae takes the cue to prepare another round of drinks for them. Then another, and another. And Sypha diligently produces more ice as needed, but soon enough the neat little spheres turn to various other shapes, cubes, diamonds, she’d even make what she’d call “bunny shaped ice” which to Trevor looks nothing like a bunny and more like a lumpy piece of ice, more like hail. She also becomes more giggly and touchy, as she stretches her legs under the table to rub against Trevor’s shin, and catch his leg with her ankles. Beside him Adrian switches sides, and now he is starting to lean onto him ever so slightly, as his flush grows redder, his lids fluttering downward over his glassy eyes, and his tongue trips over itself as he tries to speak. The conversation has went sideways, as now he and Piney are discussing something about vampires and fairies, but Trevor has tapped out from the conversation a while back. It seems like he and Piney are the more booze hearty ones in the group, as for the other two, they’ve gotten pretty sloshed at the third or fourth drink.

“You know what I really hate now, that I think of it? The church.” Trevor takes a double take, as this came from Piney of all people. Or fairies. Or vampires for that matter cause they’re a mixed bunch.

“Yeah, heh, fuck the church man.” He responds, tipping the watered down remains of his drink, and at this point the fae is just serving him straight up liquor, not bothering to mix it up. This tequila thing is quite pleasant, he concludes, and brings the glass to his mouth.

“Fuck the church.” Adrian slurs besides him, and leans off Trevor to lean over the table.

“The church sucks.” Sypha adds between hiccups. She’s looking rather sleepy, Trevor concludes, as she’s holding her forehead in one hand, her elbow propped on the table, curls spilling around her face in a messy disarray.

“Fuck the church!” Piney is up on their feet again on the bench, holding the glass aloft.

“Fuck the church!” Trevor joins in, sticking his legs out straight and raising his glass as well.

“Fuck the police!” The fae plops back down on the bench and throws the rest of liquor and ice down its creepy little chin-mouth, and crunches down on the ice.

“Fuck the police!” Trevor has no idea what a police is, but he’s sure that it sucks. Besides him Adrian starts to chuckle, and Sypha joins in, both seeming confused and deeply amused to why these two are shouting.

“Fuck the police!” The fae fakes a weird accent as they settle the glass down zealously, then they grab a lime half from the table and bites into it, making a face as they get hit with that sour taste. This makes Adrian really go into a fit of giggles, his shoulders quivering as he holds his forehead with his hands, then he sighs and rubs his eyelids.

“I am tired. Is anyone else here tired? You must had traveled the whole night. Fuck.” He says, lifting his face from his hands to look at the two humans at the table. “I have no guest rooms prepared, fuck.”

“D’you got a big bed instead? Cause I don’t mind sharing.” A silly grin creeps onto Sypha’s lips, and Trevor can swear that her hair is doing that thing when she’s about to do something particularly mischievous, when it makes it look like she has a pair of tiny impish horns. And it only raises more suspicions when she takes off her robe, and rolls it in her lap.

“… well then. You kids go to rest, you’ll have a long day tomorrow anyway, cause you’ll need to learn to dance too.” With that Piney begins to pick their stuff off the table, piling the lime halves into the ice bowl, now full of water, and stacks the tall metal cups into each other and sets them aside.

“We’ll need to dance?” Trevor asks automatically, blinking at the fae as it walks off with the cups and bowl piled onto the little cutting board, as if they didn’t drink alongside them for the past few hours.

”Yep, it’s the surefire way to impress Emperor Red: dance.” Before it vanishes from view they flip the edge of their coat, which goes flying, and it flares and shifts in an unnatural fashion, growing big and wide and vaporous to display the various shades of browns and greens and blues and greys that make up the lining.

“When where you planning to tell us that, then?!” Trevor sits up so suddenly he knocks over his glass and jerks the bench besides him, which makes Adrian sit up with a start, and Sypha looks up at him with the widest eyes.

“Now Trevor there’s no need to get violent.” Adrian slowly gets up, mostly grabbing onto him for leverage, and puts an arm around his shoulders.

“But the bastard didn’t tell us that we’ll need to dance! Don’ t you think that that’s a pretty big-“ Before he can finish his sentence, a finger gets pressed on his lips and Adrian shushes him calmly, which sends chills down his spine considering just how close they are. In the meantime Sypha gets up, a little unsure on her feet, with her robe rolled under an arm, and she walks up to him, using the table for support, and take his hand.

“Let’s go and catch some sleep Trevor. I’m tired. And we can get angry together tomorrow, okay?” Despite being quite tipsy her charm hasn’t died down one bit, and Trevor sighs, then he looks over to Adrian, who’s hip is pressed against his, and his arm is still around his shoulder. His eyes are half-lidded and slightly unfocused, staring right through him, and in the low light of the dying fire he can still see how flushed he looks.

“You’re yeasted up like leavened bread. Okay, show us to somewhere to sleep.” He grunts out, and steps away from the bench, with the two on his side, partially using him as a support and as a guide. Adrian makes an affirming sound and takes some initiative to lead them off to the main library room, all three of them stumbling and dragging their feet, minds up in an alcoholic daze.

As they step into the room, the fireplace roar, lighting up to bring some warmth to the cavernous, chilly room.  Then Trevor eyes the pile of cushions and bedding in the middle of the room, and raises a brow. He had no idea vampires have the tendency to nest, and this information makes him want to laugh, or to question Adrian’s sanity. To his other side, Sypha lets go of his hand and walks straight at the pile, and without saying anything she throws her rolled up robe in the middle, then turns on her heels and lets herself drop onto a mattress, letting out a small laugh when she hits the cushions.

“This is really comfortable! Can we sleep like this forever?” she rolls to her side and beams them a big, happy smile, and Trevor smiles as well, then he hobbles over with Adrian to help him lay down.

“That, would be nice. Aside from the sleeping forever part.” Adrian struggles to not slur every other word, and uses Trevor to straighten himself up, then he turns Trevor to face him, which brings their faces really, uncomfortably close. His hair’s also in a messy heap, and he blinks owlishly, like trying to process the situation. “I didn’t knew you had blue eyes, Belmont.”

“What?” Trevor stammers, and the next thing he knows Adrian leans back just too much, still gripping onto his shirt, and brings him down with him as he falls back next to Sypha. She jerks away and avoids getting caught under them, and Trevor lands face first in a cushion, and groans exasperatedly. Underneath him Adrian grunts and gasps, and brings his hands from between their chests up on Trevor’s shoulders, and Trevor props his hands down on the mattress and lifts himself up.

“What the fuck was that for?” he barks out, clenching his teeth and frowning at the man underneath him, who still has that starry-eyed and distant expression on his face, and he lets his hands drop besides his head, over his splayed out golden hair.

“I’m sorry, I- lost my footing.” He responds in a breathy manner, and Trevor sighs, letting his head drop. “Will you take me?”

“Take you to hell, maybe?” Trevor responds sarcastically,  but then Adrian hooks both legs around his hips and-

 _Oh_.

Well.

So this is what’s going on. He’s got a gorgeous man under him who really wants him to be there. That’s something new.

Trevor blinks slowly, and now it’s his turn to get flushed. It doesn’t help that, with how tight Adrian’s stupid leather pants are, he can tell exactly what he has in mind, and how much he’s looking forward to this. And he finally understands that starry-eyed look on his face.

“Smooth, you guys.” Sypha props her chin up on her hand, laying on her side and looking them over with a lazy expression.

“No, you’re drunk.” Trevor finally finds his words, and rolls over to his side, or so he tries before Adrian whines and clenches his thighs around the other’s waist. “Look, you’re drunk, I’m drunk, Sypha is drunk, everyone is drunk and it doesn’t feel right to just go at it right now.” He continues, and manages to roll to his side as Adrian lowers his leg with a whine.

“I’m sleepy Adrian.” Sypha murmurs from her side, and she moves closer to cuddle up to his chest. “I want to sleep with you guys, as in actually rest. We can have fun tomorrow, when I’ll be able to keep my eyes open.”  She looks up at Adrian from her position, giving him those big doe eyes, and he drops his head back on the mattress with a sigh.

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, cause that’s horrible.” Trevor adds, and he rolls onto his back, sighing and not caring for the unevenness of cushions underneath him. “And my eyes are burning in my head like coals, I need to sleep, and I need a bath.”

At this announcement, Adrian starts to chuckle. “You, Trevor Belmont, think you need a bath?” He turns his head to get a better look at him, and Trevor blinks, there’s a fondness on his face that just feels strange at best. But he thinks that maybe, one day, he’ll be used to it. Someday soon, maybe.

“Hey, your highness just asked to have sex, you’d think I’d at least look presentable for such an honor.” He grumbles sarcastically and chuckles. Sypha reaches over Adrian and pinches his cheek firmly, making him yelp and swat her hand away. Adrian takes her hand and brings it to his lips to kiss it, and she giggles, before reaching up to kiss his cheek. Trevor scoffs at this display, rolling his eyes, and sits up to shove whatever pillow’s digging into his back, and find a suitable blanket to throw over themselves.

“Hey Trev, c’mere.” She reaches out for him and gestures to move closer, then she manages to grab onto his shirt, and tug him down. Not having the best balance for the moment, even sitting, he topples over Adrian, who grunts at the impact, and before he can get mad at her, she grabs his face and brings him into a kiss.

Even drunk as he is he can tell that this is a sloppy job, but he’ll let it pass. They’ve only kissed once before, after a more difficult mission which had them both rather scared and in need of comfort and affirmation. She pulls away, her lashes fluttering down, and she rests her cheek down on Adrian’s chest. It takes him a second to find his breathing again, and fully contemplate what just happened.

“Your breath stinks.” He comments, and settles back down on his arm.

“Look who’s talking, you ate onions too.” She sticks her tongue out at him, and closes her eyes, looking so peaceful and safe.  How can he be mad at her, he thinks, and finds himself smiling.

“I missed you two so much.” He hears Adrian say, and then feels his arm against his back, pulling him closer. He doesn’t resist not try to evade it, in fact, he relishes in the touch, and shuffles closer to the other man.

“Well no shit, Aristotle. But in all honesty, are you okay? You where kinda clingy the whole day.” He tilts his head back to watch the other man avoid his gaze and shift slightly, and Sypha opens an eye, looking at them curiously. “I might just be projecting the last part, but whatever, what’s up.”

“There’s nothing up, I’m just…” He pauses, thinking of what to say and then he sighs. “I’m fine. I’m doing better than I used to. I wasn’t doing great for a while, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t work, I couldn’t think well either. I needed-“ He clenches his fists, and brings the two closer to him in a firm hug. “I needed to be around other people. I needed to be with you two. I needed friends. And now-“ He sighs, his breath catching into his chest. “I’m so happy that you are here.”

“Dude, you should had just told us. I know it’s hard.” Trevor moves upward to wrap his arms around the other’s neck, which makes him bury his face into the crook of his neck. Sypha raises her head off his chest to allow the movement, then she hugs Adrian from behind, stroking his side soothingly. Never in a million years would had Trevor ever guessed that one day he would be laying besides a vampire and help him cope with loss, and yet here he is, struggling to not fall asleep on duty. He feels Adrian’s breath hitch and shudder, and he just feels bad seeing him like this, all the while Sypha presses a kiss on the back of Adrian’s neck, then she sits up to grab a blanket from the side and tuck them all in. He gives her a thankful smile as she smooths the blanket over them, and she smiles back before settling back down to hug Adrian from behind once more. Soon enough the shuddering breaths even out, turning into long, even breaths, and Trevor stifles a yawn before his lids grow too heavy for him to hold them up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there's this chapter. Can I say that my hand slipped here? Nah. But who knows, maybe laaaaaater...? Welp, you'll just have to wait and see. I also finally got the image of Trevor screaming fuck the police out of my mind, so all's good now.


	5. Illusion and Movement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Everyone teaches something, learns something, and gets a makeover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold onto your pantaloons, beloved audience, cause this is a long one, hence why it took me a while to write it. Also, rated M for mandarins. Watch out!

Waking comes alongside a serving of an awful headache, and Trevor opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling like it owes him money.

He feels like something attempted to crack his head open during the night, and what little light shines in through the tall, mostly obscured windows is making the sensation much worse, so he groans as he puts his hands on his face and rubs at his eyes. This brings him some soothing, the pressure helps relieve the aching that rhythmically thumps in his skull. Then he draws a deep breath and sighs loudly, letting go of all tension and worries. For the moment, it’s just himself, and his really closed eyes, and the echo of a pulse that interacts with his hangover. Besides him he feels stirring, so he turns his head over to see, blinking away at the haziness that has taken over his view. Adrian is on his side, with his arms awkwardly wrapped around himself, his right hand is tucked underneath his cheek and his left is on his side; he’s got a small frown on his face, his hair is spilled over his face and shoulders in a disgraceful manner, and to complete the image, he is also snoring ever so lightly. Behind him, Sypha has latched onto him like a child who’s been given a piggyback ride, as she’s thrown a leg over his hips and wrapped both her arms around his torso. Trevor blinks at this drunken sleep display, and then chuckles to himself, wondering if this is how it feels like to be… He doesn’t continue the thought, as he’s reminded of another reason to why he’s suddenly awake.

“Gotta piss.” He announces to no one in particular, with a low hoarse voice, and he gets up, still slightly unsteady on his feet. For a second he considers going outside,  but then he considers that giving how big this castle is, there must be a lavatory somewhere. Then a different thought passes through his still minced, but slowly reconstituting mind, and so he crouches to shake Adrian awake.

“Hey, hey Adrian, hey wake up.” He shakes his shoulder, trying and failing to not bother Sypha as well, but he eventually gets the vampire to open an eye, and raise his head off the cushion he’s been resting on.

“Mmm? What’s t-matter?” God even his perfect diction went out the window and south for the winter it seems. But he presses on.

“Do vampires… you know, use the restroom?” Trevor asks, and after a beat of silence, Adrian props himself up on an elbow, sporting the most majestic bedhead Trevor has had the honor to witness in a good while, and stare at him like he just asked the most stupid question imaginable.

 “You, famous monster hunter, had woken me up to ask me if vampires shit?” He responds in a tired, but irritated tone, then he sighs. Besides him, Sypha starts to stir, most likely bothered by the exchange.

“Well you’re already an asshole, so that’s not far from being a posibility. Besides, last time I visited your house I was kind of focused on not dying, you know?” He retorts mildly, and gets up once more. Adrian blinks at him slowly, managing to make even that look exasperated, then he points at a door to the side.

“Can’t you boys not argue for five minutes?” Sypha’s voice comes muffled, as she’s still firmly snuggled up against Adrian.

“Hey, I’m not going to go into the woods now, aren’t I?” He shrugs and walks over to the indicated door. Behind him, Adrian protests weakly as Sypha is still pinning him down, probably to keep him from getting up to smack Trevor. He decides to ignore them and hurry to take care of his issue.

With how little Trevor has seen of Dracula’s castle, one thing he knew about it: it’s huge, and it possesses technological feats that humanity has either forgotten, or had yet to discover. One of them being complex indoor plumbing. Now he does remember being showed in into a bathroom and was shown how to turn on the water and flush, but he had yet to see a bathroom that also had a bathtub as well.  He eyes it thoughtfully as he’s doing his business, then he spots the pretty large towels left in there, and concludes that, why the hell not, he said he needed a bath so why not proceed. It takes him a while to figure out how to draw himself a bath, and how to plug the drain properly, but eventually he’s got the tub filled, and he drops his clothes in a pile on the floor before stepping in. And it feels glorious, warm against his skin and soothing, and he submerges as much of himself into the water for the full experience. He’s in no hurry, as the sun has just started to rise. Or set. He can’t tell. But for now he’s got some time for himself, which he’ll mostly use to scrub at a sticky spot on his leg that he’d still didn’t get out from the kelpie encounter. Next time he should just let Sypha burn it down, out in an open field where nothing else can catch fire, hopefully.

Once he’s managed to make the spot relatively clean, and the rest of him less grimy in general, he gets out of the tub and wraps himself up in one of the towels, as they’re big enough to practically wrap around oneself at least twice, so he makes himself a makeshift toga. He then looks over at the heap of clothes, and decides that that’s going to be a problem for later. Maybe there should be some easy clothes cleaner method somewhere in the castle, if Adrian would he less irritated when he asks. For now, he’s happy and clean, and ready to deal with the two.

Once back in the library, he notices that the two are still sleeping, only had moved position. Sypha is on her back, her head tilted to the side, and Adrian is curled on his side, with his head resting on her chest, most likely moved there as Sypha’s hand is tangled into his hair. They both look so peaceful, Trevor almost feels bad thinking about waking them up. Instead he gets the idea to head into the kitchen and bring them a jug of water, they will surely need it, and so to the best of his ability, he creeps out of the library and returns to the kitchen.

As he opens the door, the most wonderful smell of freshly baked bread his him, making him forget for a second that he is not in fact in a bakery. If this is some magical feat that the castle has, then he’s ready to give up monster hunting and instead become Adrian’s personal assistant, even though he’s beyond sure that he would only complicate things in that matter. Then at least he would visit more often. Yes, just for the bread and the bread only. It’s too early to think about his feelings and his headache has still not completely subside, so he pushes the door open to enter. Inside is a scene he didn’t quite expect: the room is now well lit and luminous, as all windows are now wide open to let the timid early morning light shine through. Everything also seems exceptionally clean, and there’s a large jug sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, filled to the brim with a selection of wild flowers and sprigs of lilac, which adds another layer to the smell of the room. To his surprise, there’s a pretty large fish grilling over the open fire and a large bread left on the table, still steaming as if it just came from the oven. If this isn’t close to his definition of paradise –and no he is not going to try to paint a more detailed picture of it right now – then he wouldn’t be pinching himself to make sure this isn’t a trick of the mind. So he steps inside, leaving the door open, walks up to the table to take in the floral arrangement, and he puts a hand upon the bread. Yep, it’s still warm.

“I’d say you wait for the others too, that would be polite.” Trevor almost jumps out of his skin, or at least his makeshift toga, when Piney announces their presence behind him with a slightly scolding tone.  He turns around on his heel to see the fae wearing an adorable little apron over the front of its dress and a flower crown looped over one of its ear-horns, with their hands on their hips and a little frown on their face. “Is this an impromptu Roman party by the way? Or did a living armor stole your breeches?”

“What I- no, I just took a bath and didn’t feel like putting my dirty old clothes on.” He sounds more offended than he meant, to which the fae tilts its head at him. “D’you happen to know where I could wash my stuff up? You uh, seemed to have been busy tonight.”

“Yeah, this kitchen’s been neglected for a good while, so I decided to spruce it up.” Piney shrugs, then it walks past him to check on the fish. The smell it produces makes Trevor want to praise this fae up to the high heavens and back. “Now I don’t know about a laundry room, but if you just leave your stuff out for cleanup I can do that too.”

“Wow that’s uh, very generous of you.” He scratches the side of his face, his shoulders drawing near. He’s not entirely sure  how to react to such kindness, aside from pointing it out. And if memory serves well, fae don’t deal in empty thank-yous, that’s just a way for them to put you into debt, to put it mildly.

“So you’re gonna wake up the rest? You all have stuff to do, remember?” Piney throws him a look over the shoulder, before taking the fish off the fire. Despite their diminutive, child size, Piney seems to get around quite gracefully around it, as now Trevor notices that the ridiculous long tailcoats of its coat now serve as legs in order to reach high places.

“Right, just let me bring them some water.” He adds, and steps closer to the hearth.

“There’s a sink there and a jug besides it. Hope you’re not planning to give them a rude awakening.” The fae shoots him a look as they deposit the done fish on a plate, and place it besides the bread. He assumes that their magic will keep it nice and warm until it’s ready to be served.

“I won’t, that’s too much even for me.” He crinkles his nose as he pads over, adjusting the towels as to not slip off of him, as he’s not quite ready to show the fae his birthday suit.

“Hey, I’m curious but, how did you and Mr. Notorious become buddies? Like I can get why you and human Drona are, but the three of you are, quite the eclectic mix.” The fae asks as they wipe their hands in the apron.

Trevor ponders for a second as he fiddles with the valve to open the water, then he chuckles. “It’s a long story. But  long story short: Drona thought that he’s this prophesized savior and she roped me in to save the country. Still didn’t get any compensation for it, though.”

“By prophecy, you mean that you where they guys meant to stop the crazy vampire bastard who was shelling out death last winter? I don’t know about you, but the fact that you’re alive and not like, crippled beyond help, is a pretty good outcome.” Piney walks past him over to grab some plates and bring them to the table, being quite careful not to make them clink too much, he notes.

“Yeah, and I’ve saved countless bastards who had done nothing to stop my family from getting killed many years ago.” He doesn’t care how bitter he sounds, cause every time he thinks about it, it wells to the surface and spills along each word, like the water’s now spilling from the overfilled jug.

“Oh, oh yikes. Did that what happened to the Belmonts? I had no idea. Like, the name and crest are famous amongst certain monsters, but I had no idea that that’s what wiped them out. Was it the church? Ugh, may they all fucking die in horrible agony.” Piney tugs firmly at their apron, causing a strap to snap off.

“Yeah, fucking church. Hate every single bastard of them, each and every single one.” His hands are shaking already as he turns the valve off and picks out the jug from the sink, and turns around to see the fae magically mend the apron. That seems handy, he thinks.

“I can sympathize with you on that. But here’s the thing: hate on the church all you want, but remember that the people underneath them are not the same as them. An attack dog is an attack dog only cause its master made it so.” Piney gives the strap a tentative tug when it’s done mending, and seems pleased with the result.

“Heh, aren’t you just a little optimistic about things, aren’t you.” He scoffs and starts to head out, jug in hand.

“I mean, you’re the one hanging out with a vampire for a friend, but hey, the plate shard will mock the cracked pot.” The fae responds, producing from somewhere a set of cutlery to lay out.

“Yeah, friend…” He murmurs to himself, and reaches out to open the door when he feels someone’s gaze on him.

“Or is he?” The way Piney said that made him think of children bickering each other over their first crushes, and he’s none the wiser as he turns around to give the fae a defiant stare. Piney, however,  seems amused.  “Are you embarrassed cause he’s a dude or cause he’s a monster?”

“Our relationship is strictly platonic, thank you very much.” He finally responds, emphasizing the last part sarcastically, as he turns around again to leave.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are human Trevor!” The fae calls from the kitchen. “Unless you want to diddle children, then I’ll shit on your grave as your mother watches and weeps!”

“My mother’s dead!” He calls back and hurries up.

“Oh. Then I’ll still shit on your grave for diddling kids!”

“I don’t even like kids at all!” He yells back, exasperated and getting more angry per second as this very stupid and very loud conversation keeps on going. Eventually he’s too far for the fae to yell at him effectively, and soon he’s back in the library.

Sypha is not there, but he has a sneaking suspicion that she’s in the bathroom, but Adrian is, he’s sitting in the reclining couch and reading, like the aristocratic nerd he is. When he comes in, he turns his head to see who it is, and his eyes grow just a touch wider. He mildly wonders whether it’s because of the towel ensemble.

“So you where not joking. Should I expect pigs to fly soon as well?” Adrian muses as Trevor walks over, and Trevor scoffs at him.

“Oh cut the crap.” Trevor grunts as he sits down on the opposite end of the couch. In front of them a mellow fire dances in the hearth. It feels cozy, domestic. He likes that.

“Where were you at, afterwards? Especially like, this.” Adrian gestures up and down Trevor’s body, and shifts his gaze away to not linger on him for too long. For a second, Trevor truly feels exposed, even in the ridiculously big towel that does a pretty good job on hiding his body. So he shifts the focus to the water jug, as he hands it over.

“Brought water, think you uh, might need some.” He responds, as Adrian takes the jug and looks back at him.

“Oh. That’s, very thoughtful of you, thank you.” And with that he brings the jug to his lips and tips it upward. Trevor suddenly finds himself fascinated by how Adrian drinks, which is the same way any average human being would drink from a clay water jug. He especially finds himself fixated on the other’s throat, which strikes him as really weird, as most likely Adrian would be the one fascinated by necks out of the three of them. He just hopes he’s not being outwardly obvious about it, and he quickly turns his gaze back to the fire. He also hopes that its warmth will offer a good excuse to why his cheeks are burning at the moment.

The weird moment between them, though it’s really just on Trevor’s side, is broken when Sypha emerges from the bathroom to their right, also bundled up in the towel, her hair sticking in many directions. She looks quite awake and alert, and when she sees him she smiles.

“So you didn’t go running off naked through the castle.” She sits between them and nudges Trevor in the side with her elbow, and he chuckles with her.

“Haha yeah, no, I mean no, I didn’t want to risk running into that fairy all buck naked, that would be weird, too weird.” He slightly leans away from her, rubbing the spot she poked. “Looks like I’m not the only one in this toga party.”

“There should be clean clothes in the laundry room, they might not fit perfectly but it’s better than just this.” Adrian settles the jug down and drapes his book over the side of the couch before he stands up. “I’ll be back soon.”  As he walks behind the couch, he ruffles Sypha’s still damp hair, and she tips her head back into his touch. Then to Trevor’s surprise, he does the same for him as well, before he leaves the room.

“He almost went to look for you, before I convinced him otherwise.” She says, and stretches her arms over her head. If her towel where any loosely wrapped and not tied over her shoulder, it would had definitely popped open, Trevor catches himself thinking.

“Heh, clingy bastard. Though not as clingy as you.” He responds, and gives her a nudge back.

“What do you mean by that, human Belmont?” She snickers and then gives him a narrow eyed look, still smiling brightly.

“When I woke up you where clinging to him like you where climbing a tree. I wish I had the means to immortalize that for everyone to see.” He pretends to be hugging something and sways it slightly, to which she scoffs and crosses her arms.

“It’s not my fault he’s comfortable and was at the middle.” She throws her head back, making her wet curls bounce and sending fine droplets spraying.

“I knew already you fancied him so stop pretending you didn’t just take your chance.”

“I took my chance with you too, you know.” She crosses her arms and gives him the side eye, a smile still tugging at her lips.

“And I loved it.” He admits, leaning back on the couch, and nonchalantly putting his arm around her. She scoots closer and leans in on him, seemingly unaware –or not caring – that right now the only thing separating their naked bodies are a layer of towel. Trevor decides to beat that part of him that keeps thinking of these things down, now wanting to deal with that thought, or how much he’d like to just put a hand on Adrian’s throat and feel his breathing and –

“Oh shit, I just remembered – the whole dance thing.” Sypha suddenly exclaims, which yanks Trevor from his questionable reverie, to which he is very grateful for. He turns to look at her and she’s staring back at him, wide eyed and slightly terrified. “How are we going to do that?”

“Uh, well…” He shifts uncomfortably, bringing his arm back. “I took, a few dance lessons as a kid, before…” He trails off, eyeing the fire vacantly. He then looks back at her and she seems mildly amused, or sympathetic. He can’t tell. “My parents wanted me to keep up appearances, alright? We were still nobility, after all.”

“I didn’t say anything about that.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, and he relaxes.

“D’you know anything? You’ve been traveling your whole life, surely you had to pick up something like that on your way.”

“Well we did learn some songs along with oral history and legends, and I think I can still do this dance I’ve been taught as a kid…” She stands up, smoothing down the towel-now-robe, and offers her hand. “Would you like this dance?”

Trevor looks up at her, at her big happy smile, and he chuckles before taking her hand and standing up. “Lead the way, then.” He jerks his head to the side, in the center of the room, that’s less cluttered and full of stuff as the rest of it. She walks him over into the middle of the room and has him turn to face her, then she steps in close, still holding one of his hands, then she takes his free hand and places it on her shoulder, before placing hers on his waist.

“I’ll lead the way.” She says, and he tenses up just by a bit. She then brings him closer into a hug, pushing his spine up straight and forcing his chest out. “Keep this posture now.”  And with that she takes a step forward, then another, then two quicker steps, followed by another two slow ones, all the while she murmurs in which direction they’re going, and then they turn around when they finish the sequence, and to avoid running into things. And they go at this for a while, until it becomes second nature to them, and at a turn she uses her hands to make him turn around, which slightly catches him off guard, but she catches him as he tips back just a bit too much when his back is turned at her. He gasps and glances over his shoulder at her, and she beams him a smile. Then they both jump as a clapping comes from their side.

“That was impressive.” Adrian’s standing by the couch, having draped a few sets of clothes over it to free his hands for clapping. Besides him stands the fae as well, who barely reaches his hip level with the tips of their ear-horns, and they seem quite pleased.

“I was worried that you two might have two left feet together, but I was proven wrong. Glorious dawn!” Piney cheers, throwing their hands up in the air, and then they turn to Adrian to casually shove him over to the bathroom door. “Now hurry up and get washed you, you said you need laundry done, and food’s still waiting to be dug in.” Adrian doesn’t protest, so he grabs a set of clothes off the couch and goes his merry way, flashing the two a pleased smile. The cheeky bastard owns more than one pair of tight leather pants it seems, Trevor catches himself thinking. He leaves the door open enough to usher out the heap of clothes the two had left in there, and the fae snaps their fingers, to which the pile animates, shifts and moves itself to form a jumbled yet cohesive clothes creature, that scurries out of the bathroom on four pant legs and four sleeves, like a terrifying fabric spider.

“Well I got my work cut out for me, you better get dressed, maybe practice a bit more til your buddy is done.” Piney sighs and shuffles towards the door, with the clothes creature in tow.

“But where can we get changed?” Sypha asks, and ducks her head between her shoulders as she turns to face the fae. The fae looks over to her, and squints quizzically, bringing a hand to its chin.

“You two step aside, like a good four feet apart.” The fae instructs, and the two look at each other, then they do as told. “No-no, you human Trevor, go further away, and you lady, come forth.” The fae agitates a hand in the air, and eventually they get where they’re told. Then the fae puts a hand over their eyes, screwing them shut.

“Okay good, now-“ With a hand gesture, and very suddenly, the towels come off them and unfurl, before placing themselves between them, and between Sypha and Piney, like they’re hanging on a drying line. Both of them gasp, obviously, not expecting to be suddenly stripped like that, and automatically try to hide themselves, before realizing the divide.  
“Okay now get changed and you can pluck the towels off when you’re done, okay bye!” And with that they hear the quick pitter-patter of boots on the stone floor, followed by a thud and a yelp, and finally the door opens and closes loudly, announcing their departure.

“What the fuck was that?!” Trevor hunches over, his face now truly hot and red, and feeling more exposed than ever. What it is with fairies and making him feel naked, now quite literally.

“I don’t, oh my gods.” Sypha cries from behind the sheet, which offers a good enough division between them, extending up to the couch as well, where he notices that the clothes had been lain separately, for each of them. And with that Trevor moves over to grab the trousers and yank them on. Thankfully they’re soft, linen pants, and not the obscenely tight leather ones Adrian’s never caught not wearing. He also finds some smallclothes underneath, so he takes the time to put them on, before pulling on the trousers. Behind the sheet, he hears Sypha do the same, all in a flustered silence.  The shirt on the other hand does have the same deep cut of the neckline, which makes Trevor suddenly very conscious of his chest. How does Adrian manage to pull this look off is a mystery to him. And he’s also slightly uncomfortable due to the sleeves not being wide enough.

“Are you done?” Sypha asks after a while, and he sees the towel ripple between them.

“I mean, yeah I’m done, you want to take these off?” He asks, and puts a hand on top of the fabric, feeling a firm and invisible resistance keeping it up.

“Ready when you are.” She responds, and he hears the other sheet go down with a soft flutter. So he follows suit, putting pressure on the invisible hold, and the fabric goes limp in his hand. She stands there before him, folding up the sheet, and seemingly not paying mind to the shirt’s deep cut, which makes him look away just as quick as he lays his eyes on it.

“Heh, it suits you.” He crumples the fabric in his hand as he feels his face warm up again.

“It certainly suits me to have a shirt that’s practically billowing open.” She doesn’t fuss about it, doesn’t hide it, she just minds finishing with the sheet and setting it aside once she’s done. “After all, it’s not like I’m afraid of who’s going to see me.”  She eyes him over, and eventually he returns her gaze, before she reaches to take the towel from his hand. “What are you afraid of, Trevor?”

The question feels almost like a shock of cold water, and his shoulders tense up. “I uh, I’m afraid…” He pauses, and thinks his words out as he scratches an itch behind his ear. “That you might get the wrong impression, ‘bout me. Everyone always does.”

“We’ve been around each other for about half a year.” Her gaze softens a touch, and she puts her hands on her hips. “It’s not a long period of time, but I’m pretty sure that our circumstances allowed us to know each other a bit better than the average. And so far, Trevor, you’ve proven to be a good man. Still a little rough around the edges, but a good man.” She punctuates her last sentence by gently arranging his collar, which makes him jump slightly. Her gaze is patient, gentle, nonjudgmental, which brings him to an ease, even makes him offer a smile back.

“So, guess that you trust me, huh?” He asks, dropping his shoulders and his arms by his side.

“I do.” She says, not skipping a beat. “If I wouldn’t, I would had made that loud and clear.”

“Heh, okay then. But do you trust me right now?” He shifts just the tiniest bit closer, and she doesn’t budge, gazing at him expectantly.

“Of course.” The smile on her face and the warmth in her voice makes him feel weak in ways he never thought that he’d be, or he would allow himself to be, ever.  So he reaches up to hold her face, almost scared that just by touching her he might hurt her, and then he leans in. The moments their lips touch she throws her arms around his shoulders and holds him there, locked, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His chest swells, catching his breath in his throat, and he pulls away briefly to gasp for air, and she waits for him before pulling him back in. His hands move away to wrap them around her waist and they stand there, lips locked and dizzy with excitement. Then a door opens, and they both break the kiss to see who’s there. A towel walks in, tall and looming above a pair of shoulders and continuing in hands that hold it in place, rubbing it in, before Adrian throws his head back, his still damp locks flipping over and onto the towel now draped on the back of his neck. There’s a beat of silence, as he looks at them with a blank expression.

“Did I miss something? Or interrupted something?” He asks in an oh so soft tone that Trevor needs to fight the urge to pull him in as well, to not let him feel left out.

Besides him, or better said in his arms, Sypha giggles sweetly. “Not at all. Now let’s get going before Pinecone comes looking for us.” A part of him feels like that’s a lie, but he won’t contest it, as she removes herself from his hold and pads eagerly out of the library. The two men look at each other, and Trevor shrugs.

“Come on let’s go, you’ve probably smelled what’s cooking, and I can’t wait to eat for one.” He says and sets forward as Adrian drops the towel on the arm of the couch, neglecting the book he left there waiting.

“Ah yes, let’s-“ There’s a beat of silence in Adrian’s sentence, which prompts Trevor to look over his shoulder at him, and catches his gaze.

“What’s the matter?” He cocks a brow at him, and his face goes pink.

“Nothing, I’m just glad that the clothes fit you.” Adrian sketches a smile, but that still doesn’t quell the suspicion.

“Yeah, it’s all good, but the sleeves are just a bit too tight.” He complains, but seizes the moment to flex his arm. Indeed the fabric goes taut around his arm, but Adrian’s gaze is still angled downward, he notices. Then he realizes that his shirt is just long enough to hit at the hipbone, and while the trousers are linen, they’re not quite as loose as the usual linen pants would be. And with that Trevor hurries after Sypha to not dwell too much on what was Adrian fixated on.

 “Ah, finally the whole party is here.” Piney announces loudly as the two finally make their way to the kitchen, after Trevor insisted for Adrian to lead the way. The fae is standing hunched on the edge of the hearth, as it’s too tall for them to reach and maneuver the pan, where a few eggs are sizzling away.  Trevor’s stomach groans approvingly of the sight, as he finally settles on the bench, like yesterday, besides Adrian, which does not make him feel less at ease.

“You look uncomfortable.” Adrian says, leaning back to see the scene unfold. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“How dare you.” Piney snaps him a glare, grabbing the pan off the fire and hopping off the hearth, then walks up to them to dish out the eggs, sunny side up and crisp, no runny whites in sight. “I flipped this entire kitchen on its head, young man, and your hearth made for giants won’t be the beast to slay me!”

“… ‘young man’?” It’s all he can respond, giving the fae a wide eyed look.

“Dude, you’ve seen this kitchen, it’s the kitchen of a young bachelor nursing a broken heart and a five o’clock shadow for days.” The fae finishes dishing out the eggs, including on its own plate, then it grabs a knife to carve off bread slices and pass them around. Sypha shares an amused look with Trevor, who is struggling not to giggle himself. Then the fae starts hacking at the –unsurprisingly – still warm fish and serve it as well.

“The amount of strange words you use is baffling.” Adrian responds, instead of trying to justify the untidiness of the kitchen before the fae’s arrival. “What is a ‘dude’?”

“Think of a cool guy, and boom, you got a dude.” Piney plops down onto the bench besides Sypha, announcing that it’s time to tuck in, which is all good by Trevor. The bread is softy and hearty, the fish is fantastic, all they need now is some good ale and he would be the happiest.

“And how do you define ‘cool’ then? I’m sure you are not referring to a cold man, now.” The other man presses, slightly leaning over his plate, as the fae shovels an entire egg into their terrifying maw.

“Now listen, I appreciate your linguistic intrigue and prowess, but do me a favor right now and just eat. You’ve been holding back on that my dude, next time you’re invited to a banquet, bring a sleeping bag.” Piney responds as they chew down on the egg and stuff a piece of bread along with it. Thus some peace and quiet settles at the table, as everyone minds their meal.

“So uh, dancing.” Trevor decides to break the ice, once he’s finished with his eggs. “When was that meant to come up?”

“Weeeeeellllll, I said it was a party, so I thought that dancing comes along with it? Honestly none of you ever partied?” Piney looks around the table, clutching a piece of bread in their hand.

“No.” Adrian admits right away, as he moves the fish from side to side on his plate, contemplating whether to give it to Trevor or not.

“I partied.” Sypha announces, mouth still half full, which earns her a glare from the fae. “A few times, at fairs where people had welcomed us instead of regarding us with suspicion.”

“I mostly sat at the bar and drank. I wasn’t invited.” Trevor punctuates, and steals the fish off Adrian’s plate, as he looks at them in mild disbelief.

“Welp.” Piney adds, and eats up their bread. “But at least tell me that you can dance, Mr. Notorious.”

“You know that that’s not my name, yes? And yes, I do know how to waltz.” Adrian responds, before lightly elbowing the other for the theft.

“I know, but if that where my name I’d speak of myself in third person til the cows come back home.” And with that Piney gets up, picking their plate, and picking the other’s plates as well once they’re finished.

“Now what?” Trevor leans back to see the fae carry the dish stack to the sink, and lift themselves up on the tailcoats to safely deposit them in.

“You know how to waltz, human Trevor?” The fae shoots him a look, and he blinks.

“Yeah, I remember something from when I was a kid. Parents didn’t want me to just be monster hunter, after all.” He shrugs mildly, furrowing a brow.

“Good. Now go in the hall and exercise with Mr. Notorious here to freshen up your memory. Then lady Drona will show you both how to do that dance of hers again. That’s for sure gonna turn some heads.”  Piney seems to smile, and he feels the heat rise over his face again.

“Do you think that’s necessary?” He asks, and eyes Adrian cautiously, who is giving him a mild look.

“Yes. Now get going.” The fae turns back at them and shoos them off, like they’re a flock of chickens. And without a protest, the three do as told, and exit the kitchen to enter the main hall. It’s as vast and dreary as he remembers it, only slightly better illuminated, and with no underlings or dead vampire dust coating every surface.

“So what now, waltz or what we were doing?” Trevor gestures towards Sypha, as if wanting to take her hand.

“I think you two should do this waltz thing, I’ll sit here and watch. We got to have all our bases covered, right?” She crosses her arms at him and leans up against a pillar, and he can swear that her hair is doing the impish horns thing again.

“That sounds fine by me.” Adrian shrugs and walks up next to Trevor, which makes him shift back just a bit. “Would you offer me this dance?” He says jokingly, taking a small bow and offering his hand. He eyes the other man for a good moment, and with a sigh, he takes the offer, and takes his hand into his.

“I’ll be leading.” He comments, firmly planting his free hand on Adrian’s back, keeping a good distance between them, without needing to stretch in order to reach. The other man – vampire – he reminds himself, raises a fair brow at him, then he elegantly places his free hand on Trevor’s shoulder.

“At your command.” And with that Trevor quickly goes over the basic steps, following them as they come, all the while enduring Adrian’s quiet and quizzical gaze. It’s a simple dance after all, simple steps, stay inside the box, be light on your feet and keep the tempo. One, two, three, one, two, three. Around and around the room they go, slightly turning at the end of each reprise of steps to go in a circle. After a few reprises he feels Adrian push back a little, as his form is much better than his, more poised, more calculated, for sure more trained than he is. This makes him slightly mad, so he pushes back to try to maintain the form he built beforehand.

“You know this isn’t quite how it goes, right?” Adrian cocks a brow at him, stopping dead in his tracks.

“So? You think they’re gonna judge us?” He retorts, slightly irritated as he tries to push back, but is met with the other’s unmoving, and stupidly sturdy form.

“Quite so, actually. Either you let me help you get this right or we risk not succeeding.” The gaze turns into a steely one, but Trevor fights back stubbornly, maintaining the gaze for a good minute, until he feels Sypha’s hand on his shoulder.

“Okay boys take a break, I’ll take it from here and show Adrian the basics.” She sighs and gently pushes Trevor aside, who only budges when Adrian turns his gaze on her. Feeling dismissed, Trevor trudges to the pillar where Sypha was standing a moment ago, and he finds Piney, standing on their tailcoats as if they’re legs, with their real legs folded up and under the bottom of the dress. On their lap rests a board, and they’re holding a charcoal stick in its free hand. Dark coal smudges are dotted on their white mask-like face, as they’re frowning down on what’s on the board. This whole view is enough to make his anger go for a walk, as curiosity comes around instead, and he walks up to them to see what’s going on. Behind him, the two start dancing, again with Sypha as the lead, as she offers more instructions as needed.

“Hey, what you’re doing there?” He quizzes the fae as he leans up against the pillar. Piney looks up at him, and rubs their knuckles against their face, where the nose would be, leaving dark smudges behind.

“Take a look!” And with that they turn the board for him to see. It’s a simple sketch of a human form on a piece of paper, a more feminine figure, over which the fae has added details and notes. A weird sort of ruffle goes around the figure’s shoulders, and is annotated in a language he doesn’t recognize,  and  is continued by a paneled bodice and a long, flowing sort of skirt. “Ideas?”

“Um.  I think this is for Sy- er I mean Drona, ey?” He responds after a beat, and looks back at the two. They’ve seen to had caught up a lot faster than Trevor did, as they’re moving across the floor much quicker. As Sypha is in the middle of a spin, Adrian takes a side step, and she topples in his arms, somehow managing to make that look graceful. Both of them laugh about it, seeming so at ease.

“I first thought about putting the ruff around her neck, but thought against it, instead there will be a sheer panel over there, to act as straps.” The fae turns the board back to them and sketches on, the charcoal making a soft sound against the paper, then they suddenly shuffle the papers. “Quick question, do you have body hair?”

The question takes him by surprise. It takes him by surprise that he’s taken by surprise by anything the fae has to say. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m asking if you got body hair. Cause then I’ll give you a full lace shirt to hide that, or if you don’t I can sneak in a front mesh panel so people can admire your physique. Or are you okay with shaving?” The fae twirls the charcoal stick in their hand, using the other end to scratch at their head.

“Uh, yeah I do have uh, chest hair.” As if he didn’t knew that already he peeks down his own shirt to make sure. Yep, he’s got a decent patch on his chest, not too sparse nor too dense, and it trickles down his torso in a happy trail.

“Would you be willing to shave that or you’d rather not?” The fae presses on, tapping the stick against the side of the board, looking him over expectantly.

“What, why would I do that? No.” He steps aside, slightly flustered. Piney makes a noncommittal noise and scratches something onto the page.

“Well okay then. Might just see how that panel looks nonetheless.” They squint at the drawing, and then looks him over.

“I don’t want to look like an, I don’t know. I don’t want to look stupid.” He admits, raising his arms admitingly.

“I can tell, you’re really letting that fear run you over, my dude.” The fae flips to a different page and continues sketching, not lifting their gaze off the paper. “You gotta accept that sometimes you have the wrong answers, and that the people around you want to help. Okay the last bit is not always true, but right now –“ Piney looks up in the direction of the two, and Trevor turns to look at them as well. The two not only had nailed down the basic steps it seems, they’ve also managed to add some flourishes, as Adrian lunges forward and almost lays Sypha down with how far the dip goes. It’s dramatic and full of flare and Trevor wants to embody that as well. “ – right now you have two people who want to succeed with you. And you gotta listen, set your ego aside, step out of your comfort zone just to see how green that pasture is, and then try your best.”

“You should be like, a public speaker or something.” He responds, absentmindedly, still watching the two as this time Adrian twirls, and Sypha goes on one knee before she manages to lift him over her head on one hand, placing it on the small of his back, and he arches his back so hard that that it almost forms a right angle, outstretching his arms for balance, and bending a knee upwards to the ceiling. His head is now upside down and his hair cascades to the ground like a golden waterfall, before Sypha places a hand on his upper back, and bending her torso sideways,  she helps him back on his feet. Trevor concludes that that’s the single most beautiful thing he’s seen the entire night, and starts to clap, not caring of how ridiculous that looks on him. Whatever.

“Wow, he’s one flexible dude.” Piney notes, and scribbles in some notes fervently. Sypha gets up on her feet and walks up to Trevor, beaming and sweating from the effort.

“You did amazing.” He breathes out, ceasing to clap finally.

“Thanks! I’m kind of tired now, I want to take a short break. Will you and Ad- er, Notorious not argue for the next dance?” Her eyes gain a soft edge of worry, so he puts his hands on his shoulders, and finally kisses her forehead.

“Fine, pinkie promise then.” He chuckles, and holds out his right hand with his pinkie finger extended. She eyes his hand, seeming confused of the offer. “You’re supposed to loop your pinkie finger around mine, like when you grab my hand when I pull you up.”

“I know what a pinkie promise is, Trevor. It’s just that if you break one, usually, you lose the finger.” She responds rather dryly, which makes him recoil just a touch. Behind them Piney snorts and chuckles. She then flashes him a smile and pats his back, as she walks up to the pillar. “Go on now, be good.” And with that she sits down at the base of the pillar next to Piney, and Trevor walks over to Adrian, who’s standing in the middle of the room. A rogue beam of light falls onto them from above, like a spotlight, which makes Adrian’s features more pronounced, makes the shadows harsher, making him look more intimidating, until Trevor locks eyes with him; they’re patient and positive, and it brings him ease.

“Back from the top?” Adrian cocks his head, sending his hair to spill onto his shoulder, as he graciously offers a hand.

“Nah, I want you to lead. Show me what Sy taught you.” He sketches a smile and takes hold of his hand, and doesn’t waste time to put his other hand on the other’s shoulder. Adrian cocks a brow before a small smile forms on his face, and he graciously places a hand on the other’s back, before leading the dance. Slow at first, then adding more spring to the step, and then they start working in some flourishes.  Some turns, some twirls, which gets him just a bit dizzy.

“Keep your eyes locked on something.” Adrian slows down a touch to allow him to recover, and he takes the time to make a snappy half-turn away from him, sweeping his left leg outward, and then turning back, turning on his heel and landing into the other’s arms with his back against the other’s chest, all while managing to keep his eyes affixed on Adrian.

“Like this?” He cocks a brow, and the other chuckles briefly, and before Trevor can react much, he feels his arms being swung upwards and then Adrian steps aside, making him lose balance and almost fall over. But Adrian’s grip on his hands is firm, so it breaks his fall mere inches from the floor, as his body’s now pretty parallel with it.

“You should stick a leg up in the air when we do that again.” Adrian responds, as a shit-eating grin forms on his face, before bringing Trevor back up and perpendicular with the ground.

“You dramatic fuck.” Trevor grunts, resisting the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

“Okay I think I’m done making concepts and I’m ready to show them off!” Piney flutters the drawing board above their head, beaming at them. The tension between the two subsides and is replaced by intrigue for what the fae intends to show them, as it walks up to them with Sypha in tow. She looks just the tiniest bit nervous, he notices, and she settles between them as the fae raffles through the pages.

“Okay so, I’m gonna make the illusion go off, there won’t be any physical changes in what you have on, for the most part, so stay calm, don’t panic, and tell me what you think, okay? Great. So ah, who’s going to volunteer first?” The fae sets the papers in order as they speak, and then beams back at them when they’re done. The three look between each other, and before they can vocalize an opinion, Sypha steps forward  and away from them.

“Surprise me, because I can’t make out your scribbles there.” She announces, and puts her hands on her hips.

“Okay, I’m actually excited to see your reactions on this!” And with that Piney snaps their fingers audibly; before them appears a tall mirror, simply hovering in the air for their viewership, and the next thing that occurs is that Sypha’s clothes start to shift and bubble and quiver in ways fabric should never do, changing color and texture and placement, until it settles into its new form.

She is now wearing a strange sort of collar, it almost looks like her head is coming out of a peachy pink chrysanthemum , which continues with a pale, periwinkle blue dress composed out of elongated organic looking hexagonal panels that fits on the body and flares from the hips in an airy, vaporous skirt; and on her arms she wears a pair of long gloves of the same color as the collar, and with the same texture on the sleeve. What catches his eye is that a panel is missing in the gown, right in the middle of her chest, exposing the space between her bosom and closing off just below her navel. The whole ensemble is also backless, which makes her skin prickle from the cool air. The three take a beat to soak in the sight, mostly amazed with how smooth the transition was, and with how seamless the illusion is, as if she is indeed wearing such a gown. Sypha is speechless, as she looks at the mirror in shock, and she turns around to see the entire ensemble. Her face also starts matching the shade of her collar and sleeves.

“I can feel like my back is covered, but also it’s not. It’s so strange. A-and this!” She gestures to her front, at the missing panel. “I-I’m not sure how to feel about it. It’s almost too revealing.”

“Hmmm, I’m looking at the collar and it doesn’t look too amazing. Tell you what, I’ll change it just a biiiit more, make it less revealing at the torso and show your legs a bit better.” The fae makes what looks like a dismissive halting gesture, and the attire shifts some more; the collar stretches to slide lower and hug her shoulders, trailing behind a sheer material in its wake, the missing panel appears, so that strip of skin is now covered, and so is her back now. Her gloves also become shorter, only going up to the elbows, and lose the petal-like texture around the sleeve, and the skirt becomes more sheer, almost completely see through, towards the bottom, becoming more opaque as it goes upwards, to preserve her modesty. Even the footwear has been taken care of, as she is now seemingly wearing a pair of fancy slippers, with platform heels made of ice crystals, jutting out in sharp points.

“Final result! Is it better?” Piney clutches a hand under their chin, looking at them expectantly. By Trevor’s standards, she looks fantastic regardless, but this is truly up to Sypha to decide. She looks over herself, sticking a leg out to test the transparency of the skirt, it almost acts like gauze underwater with how light and lively it is, and it’s pretty hard to define what’s higher up than the knee, but a keen eye can spot the silhouette of her thighs. She turns to the side, and seems pleased to find that the dress now has a back, and she tests her range of movement, how high she can raise her arms and move them, considering the off the shoulder look, and it does not limit her movement whatsoever.

“I like it a lot better now.” She smiles, seeming quite excited by what she sees, then she does a twirl, really demonstrating the skirt’s surreal quality of movement.

“Fantastic!” With that Piney scribbles something on the page, and then shuffles them up again. “Alright sorry to cut your little vanity session short there but next!” And with another snap the outfit bubbles and shifts, like smoke, like ink in water, and it turns back to the simple shirt and trousers she was wearing before.

“You need to teach me how to do that. It would be amazing!” She exclaims, almost sweeping the fae up in a hug.

“I love your enthusiasm, but you need to hone your patience as well. Alright who’s next?” The fae looks expectantly between the two men, and again without discussing it, Adrian steps in front of the mirror, as Sypha turns on her heel to skip up besides Trevor. She is beaming, and he shares with her a smile.

“You uh, looked amazing in that, like a princess.” He admits, chuckling a bit to how corny that sounds.

“Like a flower.” Adrian adds, smiling mostly to himself as he watches the two through the mirror.

“Alright let’s see how you look in this!” Once again the fae snaps their fingers, and the clothes on Adrian behave much the same, like they’re suddenly smoke, or ink in water, bubbling and billowing and reforming into something else.

It’s dark blue, almost black, and has an odd sheen to it, almost like polished metal, but not quite there. The top has a high collar and a fine white cravat folded bunched up to create a diamond shaped mound of ruffles, his shoulders are bare, but there are sleeves that only go to elbow level, beyond which he’s wearing a pair of fingerless black lace gloves.  The body of the top is pretty tight fitting, ending in a pair of tails in the front, and a train in the back that reaches to the back of the knee. From under the cravat and down to the navel area is a panel made from a black fishnet material, not too tightly woven but not too sparse. The trousers are simple, dark, and really form fitting, but the really eye-catching thing is his boots. Mid-thigh high, black patent leather, stiletto heeled boots, with a golden seam running down the back, melting into the golden heel. Adrian is silent for a good minute, as he turns on his heel to view the entirety of the ensemble, his face a mask of inexpressiveness. It’s an interesting sight, Trevor concludes, that is quite fitting, not too revealing and just dramatic enough. Hell, he knows from personal experience that Adrian would show up to a fight wearing no shirt. But he does force himself to not pay too much attention to those boots, or that diamond panel of fishnet. Beside him, Sypha seems to not have this concern, as she’s eating up the view with an almost smug smile on her face, which makes him wonder whether or not she had a hand in this or not.

“You almost got my favorite color right. And I really like this cravat.” He finally answers, as he passes a hand over the ruffles, cocking a brow as they respond very much like real fabric, and it lifts it to see the full extent of the fishnet panel. Trevor quickly becomes fascinated by the train, and the fine detailing on it, like a filigree done in a lighter shade of the same color.

 “Sweet! I knew royal blue was your shade. It complements your hair really nicely.” Piney claps their hands excitedly, bouncing on their heels excitedly. “Any modifications you’d like?”

Adrian looks back at himself for a second, pondering. “Maybe more gold, but nothing too gaudy. We want to impress, after all, right?” The fae snaps their fingers again, and the filigree on the train become golden instead of a silvery blue, and Adrian takes hold of the edge of it to bring it forward for a better look. “Excellent, quite fantastic, thank you for the demonstration.” He smiles, looking pleased with himself, and as he steps back the attire bubbles and fades back into what he had on earlier.

“And last, but not least, human Trevor, will you have the honor?” Piney gestures at him zealously, and suddenly Trevor feels like way more many eyes are on him, so he glances at the two, who are looking back at him rather expectantly; Sypha look excited, Adrian looks pleased and gently intrigued.

“Are you gonna put me in some clown suit or something?” He stalls, kind of nervous of what’s it going to be.  Piney snorts, its head dropping on its chest.

“Look, if I wanted you to look like one, I would have probably done it when you were not expecting. You’ll look just fine, kind of in the same ballpark as Mr. Notorious, to give you an idea.” The fae responds after picking its head up, gesturing mildly with a free hand, its other holding onto the board beside them.

“Hmm, okay what the hell, I trust you.” He shrugs and steps forward, posting himself in front of the – most likely – illusory mirror. Which thankfully does its job at being a mirror, he hopes. And without another announcement he hears the fae’s finger snap, and he feels a really odd sensation on his skin, like he’s both wearing nothing, but like he’s also wearing something. Then the shifting mass starts to settle as quickly as it started changing, and his jaw almost goes slack.

If he thought that Adrian’s boots where a little, his are too much. In fact, they’re his trousers now. Skin tight, shiny, wine red trousers, that continues in a pair of round toed boots, with a chunky black heel. The trousers are very form fitting, and go up to his navel, ending in V-shaped waistband. For a shirt, he has an off-white lace one, that’s seemingly attached quite seamlessly to the trousers, and the sleeves are puffed and end just below his elbow with a set of ruffled cuffs. On his hands he’s got a pair of fingerless gloves of a same material as the trousers. And to complete this look, he’s seemingly got a capelet made of cream fur, and fastened in the front with a large bronze pin in the shape of a wolf’s head. It takes him a beat to fully comprehend what he’s got on, and then he quickly searches the faces of his companions, and they’re both staring back at him, well, their eyes aren’t aimed at his face, they’re angled more lower, which prompts him to turn sideways. And indeed, his backside is pretty well defined, not to the point where one would take a double take to see if he’s naked, as the trousers are also tight, but it’s there, well defined and in everyone’s view to see.

“Soooooo?” Piney cocks their head to the side, with an innocence that he can’t tell if it’s faked or genuine.

“It’s uh, tight.” It’s all he can say, as he bends his knees up to see how much give the fabric has. It feels thin and flexible, but unlike anything he’s ever tried before, and it’s also conflictingly comfortable too. The shirt gives him no warmth, which probably explains the capelet, which also gives him a decent range of movement, as he raises his arms in front of him and brings them to the side, then upwards, the capelet glides to his will instead of sitting stiffly on his shoulders, and it feels wonderfully soft and warm. Shit, he thinks, this attire’s growing on him. And he peeks into the mirror, and sees how the two are just drinking in the view, Sypha more clearly than Adrian, as she’s got her arms crossed, with one hand on her cheek as she’s lightly biting her lower lip.

“Yooooou’d rather have, less tight pants? Or less shiny ones?” The fae raises a brow quizzically whilst scratching their head with the charcoal stick again.

“Nah, no, it’s fine. Why the fuck not, if it’s got these jackasses stunned then I imagine that those fairies will be dropping like flies.” He points over his shoulder with his thumbs at the two, and hears Adrian scoff as he rolls his eyes.

“Well then Mr. Belmont, I’m really happy you enjoy this look.” And with that the fae snaps their fingers and the illusion bubbles and billows away, and so does the mirror. “Alright, I have laundry to still attend to and dinner to make. You guys are dismissed until then, good? Good.” Piney waves them off as they set off to some side room Trevor has yet to notice, and then he turns to the rest. A minute ago they where silently fawning over him, and now they won’t even look him right in the eye, seeming distracted by the most menial of things. This makes him chuckle.

“Okay so I looked like one hot baron right there, so what are we gonna do now?”

The rest of the day progressed pretty naturally. They’ve taken turns developing a dance routine with each other, while the third takes a break. Halfway through a routine he and Sypha are doing, the fae shows up again and yells them that they’re doing great, which makes Sypha lose concentration and slam into him, which results in the two laughing it off. With her, he feels more at ease, as they both take turns leading and being led – though she is the one who does most of the dips, the one where he holds her by the waist and she leans to one side and swoops her torso to raise it up on the other is a scene to behold. Dancing with Adrian is a different experience, as even when he’s leading, he still feels that the other’s pushing back, trying to make him follow a specific set of rules, and not just get creative around them. It’s frustrating at best, but the flourishes that he throws in are quite astonishing – his strength and grace almost make him glide over the floor, and at one point during a turn he picks Trevor by the waist and swings him around, making his legs fly out in an arch, and then he smugly recommends him he should raise his legs higher. The dramatic asshole, indeed.

By the time evening rolls they’re all quite exhausted, as they decide to return to the kitchen and sit around, maybe see if Piney needs a hand of help – or just company, until dinner is done. Once again, the smell of fresh bread hits him in the face, alongside the smell of fish stew. His stomach also protests audibly , as if to remind him when was his last meal, and he chuckles to himself, thinking of how spoiled he’s gotten since they’ve been here together.

“It smells wonderful, what is it?” Sypha walks up to the hearth, where the fae is once again using their tailcoats as leg substitutes to stir in the pot. Trevor and Adrian decide to resign themselves and sit beside one another on the bench as before, only this time leaning on each other without caring much.

“More fish. This cute rusalka by the lake was really sweet and brought me a few more. I gave her a matching crown.” The fae points at the flower crown still looped on its ear-horn, as it removes the ladle from the pot and taps it loudly against the edge of it.

“There are rusalkas in the lake?” Adrian perks up a bit and looks over at Piney, who turns around and lands on their actual legs.

I mean, yeah? She also mentioned of a sad looking blond man chasing after some goats.” The fae admits, as they shuffle to grab some plates and cut the bread at the table. Adrian shrinks back just a bit as the two others giggle at this news. Dinner time continues without anything major happening, just a light hearted chat over a steaming bowl of flaky fish stew, which is absolutely delicious. And no drinking, the fae made that clear, they all needed to not be hangover tomorrow for their final repetition before going in for the event, on the first full moon night.

“Okay you guys,” Piney announces after the meal, as they’re collecting their bowls. “It’s getting late and you need all the rest that you can get. Now go off and sleep. Shoo-shoo.” The fae tugs at the backs of their shirts as it goes around, which earns them a chuckle and a slow, calm response of doing so. Adrian is first, patting him on the back as he stands up and leaves, soon followed by Sypha, who eyes him as she stops in the doorway, as he’s yet to get up.

“Aren’t you coming, Trevor?” She asks, and leans against the doorway, blinking slowly as tiredness settles onto her lids.

“Y-yeah, I’ll be with you in a minute, I promise, just uh, keep him busy.” He glances back to her and shuffles onto his feet, then he gives her a smile. She returns it, in her sweet own way, then she turns around and tags after Adrian. Now he is alone with the fae, and it’s giving him a weird sort of look.

“Can I help you with anything?” Piney asks, setting the bowls aside.

“Can you make it look like I’m wearing those pants?” He clenches his fists, hoping it’s not obvious. The fae blinks at him, as if they didn’t understand what he had just said.

“You want me to illusion up your pants to look like the red ones I showed to you?”

“Yeah.”

The fae squints at him, and suddenly he starts to regret everything, as his mouth goes suddenly very dry.

“You want to seduce them, don’t’cha?”

“… Yes, I do.” He finally admits it, there it is, out in the open for everyone to know, if the fae will be spreading this news like wildfire. Instead it just chuckles, and shakes their head.

“Well then, this is giving me an excuse to go fishing again. Maybe this time I’ll catch and eat the rusalka.” The fae says, with a grin on its face.

“You’ll actually, eat it?” He blinks, suddenly puzzled by the turn of the conversation.

“Oh, I’m gonna eat her alright.” The tone in which they say it makes it suddenly all clear, he concludes.

“Okay, I’m not gonna judge you by that, plus I’m pretty sure you’re both of age so uh… Will you help me before that or no?” He concludes, as he glances at the doorway to make sure this exchange is only known to the two of them.

“Of course we are, you silly man. But to respond to your issue- “ The fae plucks a pinecone scale off the hem of the dress, and hands it over. “Stick this into your pocket when you’re ready to seduce your person of choice. Or both of them, hey, I just confessed that I want to make out with a rusalka’s thighs, you’ll do whatever you want. Don’t worry, the pants won’t be ruined, the spell will be undone when the pants are off.”  Trevor has tapped out of the conversation when he receives the scale; it’s pretty big, it fits nicely in the palm of his hand, and its shiny, lighter brown at one  end and more weathered at the other. There’s also the vague aura of magic attached to it, like the air around it quivers the way it does above a fire, in a way. He’ll bet that the two will try to undo its secrets, the nerds.

“I uh, I’ll pay you back in cheese when I’ll get the occasion, cause you’ve done me a solid.” He finally announces, clenching his fist around the scale.

“That’s fantastic! I’ll be on my way then.” The fae bounces on the heels of its feet excitedly, and suddenly manifests a fishing pole in a hand, that they sling over their shoulder, as they head to the door. “Oh and one last thing.” With that the fae hands him a palm-sized metallic tin, a simple item, that feels odd in his hands, so he opens it, to find inside some sort of a slick looking balm. “Someone might need it tonight.” And with that the fae is out the door, leaving Trevor feeling equally nervous, shocked, and excited at the same time.

As he returns to the library-turned-bedroom, he finds Adrian once again on the couch reading, with Sypha nowhere to be seen. She’s probably in the bathroom, he thinks, which makes him feel a little more at ease. As the other doesn’t seem to acknowledge his presence, he approaches, chucking the tin onto the bedding pile and slipping the scale in his pocket. The change is almost instantaneous, and it feels good. Too good, almost.

“You’re back.” Adrian announces, without taking his eyes off the book until Trevor is beside him, and when he looks up the change is also instantaneous; his eyes grow wide and his cheeks grow flushed as his gaze settles on Trevor’s waistband for a second, then it travels up to his face. The expression of shock is amusing, he concludes, and he steps closer.

“So it wasn’t just a trick of my mind I see.” He almost growls, putting a knee on the arm rest and a hand on the opposite hip.

“You are wearing those fairy pants.” Adrian concludes flatly, shuffling away a bit.

“Isn’t this a sight you’d want to see?” He opens his arms in a wide gesture, and puts them both on his hips.

“I-I mean- Belmont, what is the meaning of this?” Adrian sputters out, becoming just a tiny bit defensive.

“The moment we got here you’ve been acting really weird. You where always on me, being near, leaning on. And what about last night, huh?” He lets his knee slide over and land onto the couch below, then he gets on all fours to crawl over to him, stopping when he’s got one hand on Adrian’s thigh and one on his shoulder; who had grown stiff with shock at the unexpected move. “What was that all about?”

“Belmont, right now you are sober and you’re making even less sense than I did the night before.” Adrian finally finds his voice in a whisper, and he slightly clenches his thighs together, which makes him feel a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He cocks a brow at him, his voice also just above a whisper, as he’s leaning rather close now.

“Trevor, if this I an attempt at seduction, with a heavy heart I must tell you that you are doing poorly.” Adrian breathes out, blinking like he cannot believe what’s going on.

Suddenly Trevor finds himself being painfully self aware of the position he’s in, and of Adrian’s pose, which is not quite the definition of someone lusting after another, or of one who’s eagerly awaiting for something for that matter. So he leans back on his heels, removing his hands off the other, and inspects him over again. Adrian sighs a sigh of relief and his posture relaxes, his shoulders go slack and his thighs relax, as he puts his elbows on his knees, and his head in his palms.

“Please don’t tell me that this is how you go to other people.” Adrian finally finds his voice again, as he looks back up at Trevor, seeming slightly exasperated. Trevor finds himself chuckling, even just to ease just how ridiculous he feels.

“Nope, thank hell, otherwise I would have died a thousand deaths of slaps across the face.” He smooths his hands over his thighs, quietly relishing in the slickness of the mystery fabric. Adrian looks him over, his eyes pausing on the other’s legs, and then he looks in the fire, as more color creeps on his face.

“I must confess, that- since you two had returned, I’ve felt happy, I felt excited, and yes, I felt desire.” He pauses a bit before the last word, swallowing dry. “And yes, I especially yearned for you.” He suddenly chuckles, smoothing his hands over his face, and then down his hair. “It’s funny how it works, you know?” He finally looks back at Trevor, with an intensity that before he would had found unnerving, but now he finds appealing, magnetic.

“I didn’t knew what to make of it either. Where you just desperate in some weird way or is it more to it?” Trevor finds himself moving closer without thinking, as Adrian leans back, now open to approach and touch. He puts a hand on the other’s shoulder, then a hand on the other, and before he can process it he’s slung his left leg over on the other side of Adrian’s body and is now sitting in his lap, facing him, staring eye to eye with an intensity he has yet to experience; a strange cross between the gaze he’s shared with another person he’s lusted for and with a long running, but friendly rival. And then, Adrian blinks. He doesn’t need any other signal, he just leans forward and his mouth finds his without a problem. At first it’s harsh, and urgent, as Adrian’s hands finds the back of his shirt and his hair, and clenches around them, keeping him locked in. His find the other’s hair, long and golden and beautiful, and he skillfully twirls it around one hand and grips on it, tugging, which earns him a hiss and the baring of fangs. He chuckles darkly, tugging harder to tip his head back further, and he places a quick peck on his lower lip, before making his way  down to his chin, then the underside of the chin, and stopping on the Adam’s apple, where he relishes in its movement against his lips, then he finds way to the side of his throat. How amusing it is, for a human to kiss a vampire’s neck first. But Adrian allows it, in fact he encourages it, as he pushes Trevor’s head in position, his breath already growing shaky with the labor of restrain.

“Bite me.” He orders gutturally, and Trevor tugs at his ponytail to tilt his head to the side, allowing more access, before, for once, doing as he’s told. He kisses the spot first, as if to warm it up, then he oh so gently grazes his teeth over the pale skin, as if he’s taking a bite. Adrian gasps, and between them, he can feel some telltale movement low below, which has him chuckling again, before delivering a real bite, with all intent on breaking skin. Adrian gasps louder, followed by a moan, as his hands relax and clench again in his hair and on his back, and his legs shift underneath his, to which Trevor raises up just enough to be able to place a knee between the other man’s legs, which he allows quite eagerly. Pushing forward, his thigh meets with some very suggestive pressure, and he clenches his jaws. Another moan, and he feels it twitch. Satisfied, he pulls away, licking the spot in one sweeping tongue motion, and he sits back without much resistance, as Adrian’s arms fall beside him. He’s breathing hard, head tipped back and to the side, eyes half lidded and unfocused in an expression of ecstasy. On the left side of his neck across from the Adam’s apple lays a reddish bitemark, not quite bleeding yet, but close enough. Adrian’s eyes flutter a little wider open as he looks up at Trevor, as he regains some semblance of control.

“Who would had thought?” Trevor muses, as he slides both hands down the other’s torso, barely controlling himself from ripping his shirt open. “That you’d allow me to bite you first?” His voice drips with amusement more than anything, as he settles his palms on the other’s chest, feeling it rise and fall rhythmically.

“That was fantastic.” He hears Sypha’s voice from behind him, then she walks up to the couch and sits down casually besides them, like she’s meeting up with some friends over a drink. The look in her eyes tells him everything he needs to know. “Should we take this somewhere we could all be comfortable?” She asks, almost innocently, leaning closer to them and eyeing them over as a smile tugs at her lips. Turning his head over, Adrian nods lightly, and she leans in to put a soft kiss on his lips. Trevor wishes and hopes to see that every day for the rest of his life, but for now he gets up, and takes hold of Adrian’s hands to help him up too. His legs are slightly shaking, but he manages to hobble over to the bedding pile and lay down, before Sypha slinks over on him, but nor before she grabs at Trevor’s backside, cupping a hand over his rump and giving him a firm squeeze. He grunts, and decides to be the first to remove something, as he pulls his shirt over his head and casts it aside. The two look up at him, taking a break from sharing little kisses, and Sypha giggles excitedly.

“Like the view, huh?” He asks the two of them in particular, as he puts a hand on his hip and drapes the other on his  thigh. This time he knows exactly where they are looking and he loves hit.

“Come down now you big boy, I can’t wait all night.” She coos, rolling onto her back to pull her pants down. Adrian, on the other hand, sits up and gets to his knees, then he grabs Trevor by the hips and tugs him closer, to which he obeys, and Adrian repays him by dragging the flat of his tongue over the bulging at his crotch, and the sensation is insane, it catches his breath and has him grip softly at the other man’s hair before he does anything else.

“That sounds amazing, but I have other plans.” He grunts, kneeling and bringing Adrian back onto a kiss, a less reckless and fervent one this time, as he opens his mouth and moans audibly into it. As they pull back he feels Sypha’s hand on his shoulder, and she leans in where Adrian was to kiss him, still giggling with glee, all the while Adrian takes the cue to kiss at her neck, and palm at the spot on Trevor’s pants that he licked before. The touch sends shivers up Trevor’s spine, and Sypha gasps from the kiss on her neck, before pulling away slightly, then she grabs a handful of Adrian’s hair to bring him into another brief kiss, and she leans back. Then he notices how the shirt’s draping off her shoulder, exposing her breast, and her pants are off, and she’s on her knees with her legs wide apart, and he drinks in the view alongside Adrian, who seems conflicted to whom to dedicate his attention.

“I think we all should just get undressed.” She announces softly, before pulling at her shirt. Adrian sits back as well as he throws his shirt away and he leans further away to wrestle with his trousers.

“A-ah, a hand of help, please.” He breathes out, looking at the two almost pleadingly. It’s a sight Trevor never thought he’d see, let alone relinquish in it. So, once again and for the third time this night, he does as asked, as both he and Sypha put their hands on the waistband of Adrian’s trousers and pull. To no one’s surprise, he’s been going commando in those things. And quickly Trevor follows suit, ditching the slick red pants for full nudity, before he throws himself on his side next to Adrian and pulls him back into a kiss, to which he responds eagerly.

“Hey now!” Sypha puts her hands on her hips as the two turn to look at her. She is absolutely beautiful, and Trevor feels ashamed to had not attended to her as well. Her body is lean and strong looking, her breasts are small and perky with dark nipples, and there’s a curl of pubic hair peeking from between her thighs. Both of them look at her agape for a good second, before Trevor remembers what they’re doing.

“Oh shit, sorry, c’mere between us.” He give her a soft expression as he shifts away by a bit, and Adrian reaches out to take her hand and pull her closer, to which she responds by going over him and settling in the middle. She looks at Trevor happily and smiles, then she looks back at Adrian and caresses his cheek with her left hand, and he moves in to kiss her again. He takes the cue to kiss her neck, then her shoulder, then he trails his mouth down her chest and to the soft mound that is her breast, while placing his right hand just below her navel and trailing it down to the soft curl of hair. She hums, pleased, and breaks the kiss with Adrian briefly to kiss the top of Trevor’s hair, just as he swipes the flat of his tongue over the nipple, and she gasps softly, her legs parting as his hand slips between them. She’s probably been watching them for a while, as she’s slick and hot and her clit is perked beneath his fingers when he glides them over, flaring them out to spread the inner lips and gliding his middle finger over the slit. She gasps and whines softly, her breath hitching, then he feels some movement beside them, as Adrian is now settling between her legs, and she responds eagerly by parting them further.  Trevor pulls his hand back, and instead takes hold of Sypha’s right leg behind the knee, and helps her lift her hips off the bedding for a moment so Adrian can shuffle a cushion underneath her, making her gasp and flush from the attention. Once settled, the other man hooks her left leg over his shoulder, and leans in, bringing his lips to her and closing his eyes. Sypha looks up at Trevor and he returns her gaze, as she reaches up to hold his head and bring him into another kiss, moaning against his lips as whatever Adrian is doing down there with his mouth seems to be quite effective.

Quickly she’s unable to focus on kissing  as she pants and rocks her body slightly into Adrian’s face, so Trevor lets his kisses travel over her neck and chest again, being a lot more gentle when he uses his teeth this time. The sounds she makes and the heat she gives off are fantastic, as he takes hold of his own excitement with the intent of keeping it going. Adrian is taking his time, much to Sypha’s delight, as she rocks her body less urgently now against him, and her legs fall to the side in a relaxed fashion. She looks back at Trevor, and tugs at his hair, signaling him to come back to her, then she lets go of his hair to trail it down his torso, and find his right hand around his cock, which she shoos away gently to only enjoy her attention. She is slow but deliberate, gripping the base firmly in the downstroke and slightly massaging the gland between her fingertips in the upstroke, which leads to him not being able to focus on her lips, instead gasping at the anticipation of the pressure in his lower abdomen.

But it’s not long until her rocking becomes more incessant and her breathing hitches more, as she clamps her legs around Adrian’s head, and raises her hips against his face. Her stroking also gets a little erratic, as she’s focused on more than one thing, and Trevor leans to kiss her again, muffling her moans and catching her breath once more, and moments later she throws her head back, crying out in pleasure as her whole body quakes, and her grip turns painful for a brief moment. She jerks a few more times, her thighs quivering now, and finally relaxes as Adrian gently pries one of them away, so he can sit up, and she goes slack before them, thighs wide open and with a dreamy look on her face. It’s a glorious sight, and even more glorious as she looks up at them and smiles, her eyes still hazy with ecstasy.

As she’s still coming down from her high, Trevor moves up next to Adrian and takes a handful of his hair to bring him into another kiss, being more mindful about it, more tender. His mouth is wet and has a different taste, but he doesn’t mind it, he presses his open mouth against the others, as he wraps an arm around his torso, and trailing the free one down his chest. He breaks the kiss, and gently pushes the other back to lay down, which he does, and he moves in closer, looming over him as he gently coaxes him to part his legs. Trevor has yet to see Adrian seem so vulnerable, so exposed, so human, no different than the night before, and he feels honored, as he leans down and places one more peck on his lips, as his hips grinds down against the other’s. It’s only now that Trevor actually pays attention to Adrian’s body, outside of combat. He’s lean, yet well built, strong feeling, and it doesn’t take long for him to reach down between them and use his hands to add to the friction. He’s well endowed, probably more than himself, and also quite tender already, as he wraps his arms around Trevor’s neck and is trying to muffle most of his moans up against his shoulder, but with little to no avail. If anything, this makes Trevor work at them even harder, jerking his hips and twisting his hand in the upstroke. It only takes a few such strokes to get Adrian to jerk his hips back as well, his moaning becoming less restraint, just as Trevor feels that telltale pressure building. He downstrokes, gripping at the base, and he lets himself go, with Adrian following behind, as he feels his nails dig in his back. He’s tired but pleased, so he lets himself relax on top of the other man, not minding the slick dampness between them.

A while passes, as the two of them come from it, and Trevor finally rolls over and off Adrian, who draws a sharp breath and sighs. Besides him, Sypha moves closer to wrap herself around his arm, and she kisses his shoulder.

“That was really nice.” She murmurs, and he lets out a cross between a chuckle and a sigh. He then turns his head to look at Adrian, who’s giving him the same starry-eyed look as yesterday, only he looks a lot more satisfied.

“You  got what you wanted, kinda.” He says, shrugging his free shoulder, to which the other man smile and rolls to his side to kiss him one more time, this time tenderly stroking his hair.

“I loved it, thank you.” There’s something in his voice that he can’t put a name to, as tiredness has started to settle in. He feels his limbs heavy, and so do his eyelids feel, but he musters enough energy to raise a hand and caress the other man’s cheek, bring Sypha’s  hand up to his lips to kiss it, and then grab a bunched up blanket from above his head to throw it over themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I am bad at describing dances, cause I don't know the first thing about them, I tried my best. I also felt really awkward describing the outfit scene? But I hope it turned out okay haha.  
> Also whoops, my hand slipped lol. Writing smut is hard, so idk if I hit the mark or not.  
> I'll admit, I really wanted to push this chapter out as soon as possible, so probably not my best effort yet. Hope you enjoyed this nonetheless.


	6. Pillow talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Rated M fooooorrr, Meyer lemons. They're a thing, look them up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow this took forever, I apologize for the wait. I wasn't very pleased of how the prev chapter ended so uh, I tried here.

Dawn begins to show itself timidly by the time Sypha finally awakes. There’s barely any light out, but it’s enough for her to see her surroundings pretty clearly. The three of them are laying in the “nest”, as she’s mentally named it, under a large, pretty cozy cover, and all around them the library looks just as cluttered and as dusty as before. The fireplace is cold, it has been so for hours, but that doesn’t stop her from sitting up to fully admire Trevor and Adrian, who are still sleeping.

Trevor has taken the middle position this time, as he’s laying prone on his back; his right arm is wrapped over his head and around the cushion he’s resting on, while the other arm is around Adrian. The other man is on his side, facing away from them, with his back pressed against Trevor’s side, and hugging his arm to his chest.  She can’t see his face, as all she can see is his golden hair spilling in gentle waves over the nape of his neck and Trevor’s arm. He looks so pale in contrast with Trevor – who isn’t particularly tan either - like he was carved from marble, and yet his chest clearly moves, up and down slowly as he’s sleeping. She can even hear the slightest of snoring, and it warms up her heart.

There is another soft sound which startles her just a bit. Trevor has let out a sigh, and has turned his head towards her, still seeming very asleep. His face looks peaceful, relaxed, and yet his eyes seem to move behind his closed lids. Probably a dream, she thinks, as she settles back down to admire him from closer. She feels like she’s in a dream herself.

If someone came up to her a year ago, and told her that she would positively fall in love with a rough and rugged monster hunter, and an gorgeous aristocratic half-vampire, and they would share the same sentiment for her and each other, she would have had second thoughts about that person’s mental state. She never really had high expectations for love, or for long term romantic relationships. Speakers don’t put much emphasis on marriage, unlike the settled, but long term relations aren’t unheard of among their community. Samu and Kiera had been together since they were of age, and if one were to get to know Yolanda and Anja better, they’d realize that they act and speak of each other much like a married couple. She’s had the occasional crush and fling – a girl from a faraway village in a sun-basked land taught her how to dance once – but she never expected anything big. Anything exciting. Anything quite as fulfilling as this.

 Trevor, despite her original skepticism, has turned out to be a practical, intelligent, and humorous person, one alongside she felt brave enough to face the darkness of the night and the dangers of the high roads. He’s also very kind and gentle, to her surprise, and has his odd little way to show fondness, a language she took as her second, with jabs and laughs and quiets nights leaning against each other by the fire.  Whenever she’d been scared or vulnerable, he would always do her best to make her feel safe and secure,  and after a while, he’d open up to her as well, not only when he’d need a hand of help to tend to an injury he’d sustained.

Adrian, on the other hand, could be considered quite the opposite, thankfully only presentation-wise. Refined, polite and graceful. She’d only known him for a short while, but he managed to work through enough through his reserved nature to tell her that he feels for her, a brief moment before Trevor and her had left; he didn’t want Trevor to know just yet, and she respected that decision. In his letters he’d mention often that he’d miss them both, and would occasionally send short notes for her eyes only. Little notes to which she’d respond in appropriate fashion.

She’s caught herself staring at the two, no doubt that with a starry-eyed expression, and she smiles softly, before snuggling up to Trevor’s side. His chest feels so comfortable to lay on, broad and muscular, flecked with small scars, undoubtedly from fierce battles against terrible monsters, and not also from the occasional dumb decision that went pear-shaped. She places her right hand over his heart, ever so lightly rubbing the spot; and then an impish thought crosses her mind, but she quickly banishes it. Instead, Trevor stirs a bit more, and she looks up at him. He sighs ever so slightly, turning his head to face the ceiling. Then another impish thought crosses her mind, only this time, she actually follows through with it. She pushes herself up higher, so now she is face to face with Trevor, and puts a hand on his cheek to turn his face more towards her, so she can finally plant a soft kiss on his lips. Then another on his cheek, then on his forehead, and finally on his eyelid, after which he opens his eyes, blinking blearily, as sleep still clings to them. He finally finds his breath stuck in his chest and sighs, and she offers him another gentle kiss.

“This’s the best wake up ever.” He manages to mumble, as he puts his free arm around her. She smiles at him, caressing his cheek, simply enjoying the moment, before he moves a hand in her hair and beckons her back again, to which she obliges happily. He kisses back, slow and lazy, still in a haze of sleep, and she pulls back when he lets out a sigh.

“You need to chew on some mint.” She murmurs, her smile turning mischievous for a moment, to which he snorts, a smile coming to his face as well.

“Look who’s talkin’.” He responds, before looking over at Adrian, as he moves ever so slightly, probably disturbed by the action besides him. Trevor tries to take his arm back, which causes the other man to growl softly, to her surprise. “Hey, wake up.” He jostles the other again, earning another, slightly louder growl.

“Adrian, my dear.” She coos in the sweetest voice she can, as she reaches to shake his shoulder. At that, he finally turns his face to look at them, giving them both an unnecessarily mean glare, before he turns onto his back, still holding onto Trevor’s arm. Sypha concludes that he is not much of a morning person, or one to appreciate being woken up by others. His gaze turns from an offended one to a softer, tired one, and she cups his cheek  before leaning over Trevor, careful to not prop her elbow in his stomach, and kisses Adrian as well, prompting him to gently sigh and return the kiss right away. It’s also light and sleepy, but she can’t tell if the whole fang ordeal is usual, or if she’ll get used to it soon.

“Morning.” He responds in a muddled tone, before resting his head back on Trevor’s arm, and looking up at him. Trevor takes a beat to look at the two, as Sypha settles back on her side, and he lets out a small laugh.

“Well if ain’t this the most precious moment yet.” He chuckles, as he brings the two closer for a moment. She can’t help but to smile and cuddle up to him, while Adrian turns on his side to face them, and moves up higher to be on eye level with Trevor.

“Maybe it is, if this is what you wanted.” Adrian responds, as he puts his left hand on Trevor’s cheek and makes him look at him, whilst giving him a searching look.

“Uh, yeah, I kinda did, if I got to be honest with myself for a minute.” Trevor shrugs, then gives the other man a puzzled look. “What’s the deal?”

“I was just curious, that’s all.” He almost whispers, whilst brushing his thumb over the other’s cheekbone, his gaze softening considerably. As she’s still got her hand over Trevor’s chest, she can feel his heartbeat quicken almost immediately, and she wonders whether Adrian knows this too, or has planned for this to happen.

“Okay, before we do anything else, let’s just clarify some things.” Trevor starts, in his usual somewhat defensive, somewhat rushed, wholeheartedly confused and genuinely curious way. “For one, I know that Sy here likes me, and I do too, no need to hide that. For another, I don’t doubt that she might like you too, I know you two had been sending notes like we’re in some fucking romance piece. Also I saw you two dancing, there’s no way. But you, what’s your deal?” As he speaks he gestures to each of the people he’s talking of, and ends by gesturing at Adrian, who then blinks owlishly at him. His shoulders droop as a small smile forms on his lips, practically oozing with fondness.

“Trevor Belmont, you’re the only mortal man I would ever allow to have power over me, and I entrust you with my whole heart.” He admits, tensing up a bit, probably cause this has to be the most corny, yet sincere and vulnerable he’s ever been with them so far, and Sypha needs all her strength to not move up closer to hug him. Trevor, on the other hand, seems almost comically agape by this confession, so much so that she pokes him in the chest to get a reaction from him. He does not react, and Adrian gives her a quizzical, almost worried look.

“That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said and I love it.” Trevor finally speaks, to both of their surprise, and there’s an excited glint in his eyes that she’s seen before, which is always a good sign. It’s excitement and joy and validation all wrapped in one.

“That was really sweet, dear.” She adds, as she reaches to take hold of Adrian’s hand, that he’s settled on Trevor’s chest. Adrian blinks and glances at her, seeming unsure how to react to this situation, probably unsure if it went well or not.

“Where you expecting a tearful reaction and a kiss?” He raises a brow, trying his hardest not to be beyond sarcastic, as Adrian blinks, a mild wave of concern washing over him. “I don’t really go that way, sorry. “ And he pats him on the back, almost apologetically.

“O-oh no, it’s alright. I was expecting worse, actually.” Adrian finally seems to relax as he lets out a small, carefree chuckle, and moves his hand on top of hers, and gives it a light squeeze.”You took that much better than I would had ever expected, really.”  

“Actually, let me have that kiss.” And before Adrian can say anything, Trevor shuffles closer and closes the gap between them by bringing their lips together. He seems stunned for a moment, then he moves his hand off hers to take a handful of Trevor’s hair, locking him in, to which he responds with a pleased moan. They stay locked as so for a few seconds, relishing in the moment, before Adrian moves on top of Trevor to really deepen that kiss, as he tilts his head and lets out a needy groan, followed by a pleased sigh as the other lets him do so,  and hooks a leg around his hip. Sypha finds herself shifting to the side, to give the two some room, and admire them. She’s happy that the two finally seem to be on the same page, and feels something more besides that, due to the circumstances. Including the intense desire to get in between them, to get some of that attention, and give some back. She slips out of her reverie when Adrian breaks the kiss, panting ever so slightly, and the way his hair drapes onto his shoulders, still messy from sleep, alongside the sheen of rosiness in his cheek, makes her want to kiss his face right away. Trevor has also gotten a bit flustered, given his position, and he shoots her a glance as he grins almost nervously.

“I can’t decide what I desire more.” Adrian starts, as he looms over the man underneath him, pinning both his wrists over his head. “Should I have you, or should I let you have me?” The way he looms and his low, almost growling tone is so reminiscent of how he came off at first, powerful, dangerous, arrogant, but the glint in his eyes betray playfulness, and his smile, fondness. “What do you think, my dear?” Trevor needs a moment to gather himself, as he protests weakly at the pinning, at which Adrian lets him go, and he shuffles up in a half sitting position.

“Ah, while your offer is really, really appealing, I think I’ll have to pass, for now.” He responds, smoothing back his hair in a nervous gesture, his cheeks turning an impressively intense shade of red. “The me being taken part, I mean. Hey, you can’t say I hadn’t made any progress, right?”

“You did, and I’m really proud of you dear.” He smiles fondly, and leans in to place a kiss on his forehead, which prompts Trevor to give him a light, playful shove as he snickers. Adrian chuckles as well, and allows the other to wrestle him down, as he gets pushed to the side, towards her, and Trevor rolls over on top of him with a victorious laugh. She giggles with them, and leans in to kiss each of them on the cheek.

“You two are absolutely adorable.” She coos before setting back down, next to Adrian, who has wrapped his legs once more around the other’s waist, and is starting to get flustered, so she kisses him again, only on the lips this time. He lets out a soft hum and returns the kiss, all the while Trevor pins his arms down, holding them with one hand while he passes his free one down the other man’s chest. She quickly decides to do the same, and she slides her right hand over Adrian’s chest, then down his abdomen, and stops just shy of the line of his hip, and she feels how Trevor has taken on grinding his hips against Adrian’s, slow and deliberate.

An impish thought crosses her mind again, and she pulls from the kiss, leaving Adrian gasping. Like Trevor last night, she trails her lips from his down his chin, and down his throat, only to feel his breath hitch, and feel the reverberations of a moan against her lips. Instead of biting, she places a kiss on the side of his neck, then she licks the spot once with the flat of her tongue, slowly, all the while she trails her fingers ever so lightly over his chest again, and finds a nipple, which she encircles ever so lightly. Underneath them, Adrian protests, not in indignation, but in arousal and anticipation, which makes him writhe and groan quietly. It would be so easy for him to simply overpower them, to push them off and pin them down, but he’s enjoying himself so much, she can feel his pulse and breath quicken, and the light, rapid, desperate little moans he’s making sounds like pure music to her ears. To give him a little more satisfaction, she presses her lips down on the spot and starts sucking, all the while trailing the tips of her fingers down his abdomen, feeling the muscles jerk back and quiver from the feather light touches.

To her right, she feels some movement, as Trevor shifts away and Adrian raises his hips, protesting at the lack of attention, and another fiendish thought makes its way into her mind. So she pulls away, pausing briefly to give him a playful look, and she seizes his arms before slinging her right leg over his torso, where she pauses to examine him and his reaction. He returns her gaze in a slightly surprised, slightly quizzical manner, all the while a light red spot blooms on the right side of his neck, and she intends to make that darker.

“I don’t know what you’re doing right now –“ He breathes out, as if just having her loom over him puts some pressure on his chest, and his face manages to get even rosier somehow. “ – but there are two other places I can think of where you might like to have a seat.”

“I can think of one.” She coos, gripping both of his wrists with one hand as she leans back to trail her free hand down his body once more, and caressing his erection that’s now splayed on lower abdomen. He responds with a soft hiss and  jerk of his hips, and she draws her hand back, with all intent to tease him.

“Th-that would be great, but that’s not what I’m thinking of.” He struggles to keep his tone in check, and she smiles, before leaning back again to caress him again, even lighter than before.

“And where else should I sit?” She knows the answer, but she wants to hear it.

“You’re looking at it.” He gives her a wry smile, just as Trevor returns behind her, and he gently pushes her hand away, before placing a kiss on the nape of her neck.

“My my, you really like kissing me down there.” Without another word, she carefully moves up higher, after allowing him to lower his arms. She bites her lip as she feels his chin graze against her pubic mound, and settles herself just as she feels breathing against it, placing her hands down on the cushions for stability. Right away she feels Adrian’s mouth against her, and she grips onto the cushion, doing her best to resist to the urge of thrusting against his face. She isn’t sure if it’s the new position, or that he’s trying something new, but it feels even better than the night before, to the point where she has trouble keeping her voice even. His mouth feels hot against her, and when he swipes the flat of his tongue over her clit, it practically sends a wave of warmth up her spine, before it sinks back down under the form of neediness and urgency. But she keeps still, feeling his hands settle on her thighs, and she slightly rocks her hips, tentatively, to see, or feel his reaction. Underneath her, he lets out a disapproving noise, and his grip strengthens, so she stops, and he rewards her by taking her clit between his lips. This makes her cry out, before she manages to catch herself, and she tries to bring her thighs together, without much success given what’s in between them. When he moans again, it’s against her, and she gasps, slightly jerking her hips forward, to which he laps at her opening, and curls his tongue inward.

At this point, she just wants to have his mouth on her, have him lap her up and hold her legs apart as she comes to it, but she’s brought down from her reverie by a hand on her shoulder. She’s lost track to what Trevor was doing, and now she glances over to him.

“H-hey Sy, I know you’re having fun but I kinda need to hear what he’s got to say.” His tone also sounds just a little bit strained, she notices, and looks him over. His cheeks are flushed, he is kneeling, and he’s holding one of Adrian’s thighs from behind the knee. She bites her lip, and lowers herself a bit more just for a second, before swinging her leg over and freeing Adrian from her hold. He gasps slightly, and props himself onto his elbows to see what’s going on, before reacting to whatever Trevor’s doing with a slight buck of the hips.

“Is that a yes?” Trevor asks in his most even tone, as he moves his other hand to rest on the other’s hip.

“Just slick yourself up and get going.” He sounds breathy, airy and almost dizzy as he lets himself drop, and he drapes an arm over his eyes. At this display, she finds herself giggling, and so does Trevor, even Adrian finds it funny, as he shifts his arm to look at them. But Trevor doesn’t comment, instead he does as he’s told, as he scoops some of the balm from the tin and coats his erection with it, all the while avoiding the other’s gaze. It’s cute, she concludes, and moves to kiss him softly on the temple, then she turns to Adrian, and without much else to say she mounts his waist, places her hands on his chest, and angles her hips as she glides her labia over his resting cock. He groans, and she feels him twitch against her, right as Trevor leans in over her shoulder, and she bites her lip.

“You’re ready for this?” He now truly sounds strained, almost aching, and Adrian’s only response is to jerk his hips closer. This also makes the tip of his cock press against her opening, and she takes this as the prompt to press back.

Collectively, they their breath as Trevor eases himself in, and Sypha brings herself down slowly. Adrian is hard, and his size is not negligible, so she takes her time, working her way down in small increments, pushing down, then raising just a bit, before pushing down again, taking in more. And it is fulfilling in more ways than one.

Behind her, she feels Trevor leaning in just a bit, his hair brushes against the nape of her neck and she feels his breath against her back, growing heavier. He’s also taking his time, mostly to allow Adrian to accommodate; from the gasping, mildly moaning and writhing form, he’s become really relaxed, and really quiet, as he’s holding his breath. She looks him over,  with his arm pressed up against his eyes, and biting his lower lip, his fang clinging against it in such manner that she leans over and kisses his bottom lip, raising herself a little more, then she thrusts her hips down suddenly. This breaks the silence on his end, as he lets out a yelp, then a moan as he draws a new breath and exhales, and another one. So she starts rocking her hips, in and away, in short, jerking moves, and soon Trevor takes the cue as well, at first matching her pace, then slowly trying to work in tandem, both drawing away at the same time, and coming down in unison, as best as they can. It only takes them so long to get Adrian truly worked up; all filter and shame goes out the door, as she finds herself moaning and praising the two on how good and handsome they are. Trevor arches his back, his hair tickling at her back as he keeps his pacing nice and even, like he’s intending to make this last. And despite that Adrian sounds like he can’t contain himself, his hips jerking almost constantly against them, losing all semblance of the calm and cool person he usually is, now a writhing, panting form, who suddenly brings her into a kiss. It’s harsh and sudden, urgent, and tastes rather strangely, which makes her blush, and she kisses back fervently, like she’s running out of time. His hands move restlessly from her hair and down her back, then off her, probably in Trevor’s hold, and she frames his face with hers, as she starts to lose herself, moaning and struggling to maintain some semblance of a pace, as urgency builds in the pit of her stomach. Unable to contain herself, she breaks the kiss and curls up, pressing her face in the crook of his neck when she finally comes, the sensation washing over her like wave of relief that leaves her mind delightfully blank and her body completely relaxed.

In the heat of the moment she feels her insides clench against Adrian, making him gasp, followed by the loveliest sound he could possibly make right next to her ear. Moments later, she feels Trevor’s movements come to a solid stop, preceded by a choked sound from him, and something warm spills inside her, sending an odd shiver up her spine. Finally, she feels the other lean on top of her, then he brings down his full weight, and suddenly she doesn’t want to be in between them, given how uncomfortably heavy Trevor feels against her. But for the moment given, she can handle it, as she’s still basking in a haze of pleasure.

The pressure releases when Trevor rolls over, and she raises her head to survey the scene. He’s on his back to her right, with the heels of his palms over his eyes, as he’s trying to even his panting into a steady breath. Underneath her, Adrian gives her a half-lidded, unfocused gaze; his lips are parted as he is also catching his breath, and he offers her a little smile. She smiles back, and smooths his hair before placing a kiss on his forehead, and she slips off him and in the middle of them. Thankfully, there’s just enough space for her to squeeze in comfortably, and she beams. She is finally in the middle and it’s not uncomfortable, besides she believes Adrian is grateful now, not having two entire people on top of him.

“That was intense.” Trevor announces, still covering his eyes as if he’s got a headache.

“I can’t deny that.” Adrian follows up, still a little breathy and dazed. “You did wonderfully.” He turns his head to look at them, mainly Trevor, and he chuckles in response as he rubs his eyes.  “Is there something wrong?”

“Nah it’s just, it was intense man.” She quickly realized why he’s doing that, it’s to hastily hide that he’s been tearing up, and instead of bringing any attention to it, she simply turns towards him and cuddles up to his side.  Adrian simply takes his hand and kisses it, which makes him chuckle again. “I’m okay, no need to get all up on me like that.”

“I like to be held, you dummy. And I thought you’d want that too.” She glances up at him with a mischievous look on her face, and she pokes him in the ribs, without earning much of a reaction from him.

“You’ve done wonderfully, and I can’t help but to show my gratitude.” The tone in which Adrian says that is low, almost flirty, and it makes Trevor laugh, which makes him jerk slightly in surprise.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had a good roll-and-tumble before?” This brings more tears into his eyes, this time in amusement, but as Adrian grows real quiet, he gets up on one elbow to give him a better look. “Wait, was this your-“

“I had been, in a roll-and-tumble before, it’s just it was not with a man.”  At this point he’s crossed his arms and is glaring at the ceiling like he’s having a very serious discussion with it and they’re on completely opposite pages. She turns over, her mouth going agape involuntarily with surprise.

“Oh my stars, why didn’t you tell us?” She also brings her hands to her mouth, which partially muffles her question. Adrian shoots her a mild glare, and she can’t take him seriously because of the extensive blush spread on his cheeks.

“Was it with a-“ Trevor begins, almost cautiously.

“If you finish that sentence the way I think that you’ll finish it, Belmont, then you’ll be sleeping in the dungeon tonight.” Adrian cuts him in a stern tone as he shoots him a more serious glare. Trevor immediately closes his mouth and lets his arm drop, then he settles back down in an awkward quietness. Sypha takes it upon herself to cheer them up, and she sighs, but then a fiendish thought pops in her mind.

“That actually sounds appealing.” She says, trying to not let it be obvious that she’s joking, and she gives Adrian what she hopes to be the most convincing bedroom eyes that she can make, as she’s biting her lower lip, and then she gives Trevor a glance, who looks very confused by her announcement, and she winks at him. Adrian tilts his head, seeming also confused for a second, then realization hits him.

“Oh, wait wh- how do you-“ He stammers in his oh so adorable fashion when he’s too flustered to keep up his aristocratic air, and she rolls over to face him, placing a finger on his lips and shushing him.

“Oh I know many things, dear.” She gives her best attempt at a sultry tone, going on on what he’s done before, and she takes a handful of his hair. The rosiness on his cheeks makes it all worth it.

“Do you?” Trevor gets up on an elbow again, clearly having not taken the hint, and she quickly moves to him, also taking a handful of his hair and placing her free hand on his chest.

“Of course I do dah-rling.” She chuckles darkly, but given how Trevor is still beyond confused, she feels herself deflate, and lets go of his hair. “Nevermind, I don’t know where I was going with this anyway. I just wanted you boys to stop being so grumpy.”

“… Oooooh. I get it now. Oh wait, there it goes, lost my thought.” He goes from having a dawning realization, to a frown, and then a shrug, to which she softly pinches his cheek, unable to hide a smile. To her delight though, Adrian does find this display amusing, as he sits up and smooths his hair back and chuckles.

“Well then, I believe we should get going, shouldn’t we? The day isn’t getting any younger.” He hums, as he fumbles for some clothes. She glances over at him and spots a mark of his neck, then she glances at Trevor and raises a brow. He gives her a confused look, but when she point the mark out, he chuckles, and Adrian turns to look at him, seeming confused. “I think I’m in not on the joke, what’s so funny?”

 “Oh nothing, it’s just a little-“ She reaches over and places her hand near the spot and rubs it with her thumb. Realization dawns on his face and the rosiness returns once more.

“Last night started on an, interesting note, I must admit.” he glances away and a smile blooms on his face.

 “You really got into that, it was pretty weird, but it was also really hot at the same time.” Trevor shifts besides Adrian, and he turns his head to face him, and they’re really close to each other, just a lean away.

“Was it, Belmont?” There’s a smile in his voice, and he slightly tilts his head.

“You know I have a name, right?” He also tilts his head, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“I know, but I can’t decide between Trev and Lorenzo Goodfellow. After all, you need a fake name for tonight.”  Before the other can answer, he places a mild kiss on his lips, brief and sweet.

“Huh, I kinda like that.”  The kiss brings a goofy smile on his face, and he blinks slowly. It looks adorable, Sypha concludes.

“I could have went with something more crass, but I think you took the cake there.” The smile on Adrian’s face makes them both realize of what he’s talking about, and Trevor recoils slightly. A part of her wants to laugh at him for getting caught, or feel sorry for him. “Really Trev? I’m positive that you wouldn’t be able to choke me, unless you put your hands on me.”

“Jesus Christ you really like to rub it all in, you really like to do that.” Trevor takes the cue to grab the nearest shirt to try to save face and avoid making anymore eye contact.

“Did the fairy told you this?” She tilts her head at the other, furrowing a brow in amusement.

“I don’t know what our dear Trev kept going on about me being needy, when he gave me that delightful nickname. But I do admit, I do like the Notorious part. I may continue going on with that.” And with that, he grabs his trousers and pulls them on. This gives her the cue to grab whatever clothes are left and put them on. She misses her usual robes, but it’s nice for once to have full sleeves and slightly more form fitting pants. There’s also something quite sweet to wear someone else’s clothes, as she assumes that these had been used beforehand.

“Ah fuck.”Adrian’s voice comes from the bathroom. “This is really visible.”  

 

 “This is it, final day. Are you guys nervous?”

The fae asks them as they shell freshly fried eggs into their plates, much like yesterday. Sypha murmurs a quick thank you, and just as quickly regrets it, so she decides to shut her mouth by  grabbing a chunk of fresh bread. Across the table and to her right, Adrian does look ever so slightly nervous, but not for the reasons the fae would think he is. After all, he does have his coat on – the fae had left their cleaned clothes by the door, but he had to go pick it from another part of the castle – and its buttoned up to his neck, which would be at least suspicious to anyone who knew him in the least. Sypha and Trevor, on the other hand, are trying their hardest to keep a neutral expression, hiding their amusement over just how embarrassed he is for the markings on his throat. It’s funny and adorable all at the same time. But thankfully the fae is unaware of this, or is simply playing dumb, but they did compliment his coat and asked him if he’s cold. He politely nodded in response.

“I could say so, yes.” She responds, unintentionally smiling as she glances away from Adrian.  “Is food cooked by a fae as good as fairy food?” Either she’s been really hungry, or there’s something rather magical about the food that she’s had over the past few days, and it all came from the fae’s hands. Piney finishes serving everyone, and hops onto the bench for their share of the food, furrowing a brow as if to think of a competent answer. For some reason, an odd silence lays upon the room, interrupted only by the sounds of cutlery on dishwear, the soft crackle of the fire, and the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the closed shutters.

“I’m gonna choose to ignore your funny reaction and answer your question: it’s kinda of a yes and no situation. There is some magic that gets infused into food as I prepare it, but true fairy food, made with ingredients that had been raised in out lands, is through and through laced with it, especially the game.” The little fae shrugs, and reaches to serve themselves with some bread.

“So fairies hunt?” Trevor looks out of his plate to give them a rather intrigued look. “I thought most of you were like, vegetarian. And maybe baby eaters. Cause the Emperor and his goons didn’t really strike me as big time hunters.”

“Aside the bloodthirsty bitch of an Empress, the Green Court aren’t much of the hunter bunch. I mean, most of ‘em are bugs and small birds and critters, not exactly predator material. But the Red Court? Oh ho hoo human Belmont, their hunting stories are nothing short of legendary.” Piney gestures with their free hand, and the shadows lingering around the edges of the dishes and the flower vase lift and curl in the air in front of them like smoke, and conglomerate into the ghostly form of a boar, a fearsome looking beast with the largest and most jagged set of tusks Sypha has ever seen.  The shadow creature tries to toss its head back as it paces quietly along the table runner, as if it’s trying to fight off some invisible enemies.

“I can only assume this is one of the legendary beasts you speak of.” Adrian notes, affixing his eyes on the shadow creature, which seems to react to it by turning towards him and adopting a defensive, tense posture. “Ah, I think I can remember something about it. My father once spoke of a boar with tusks of crystal that roamed the mountain forests long ago.”

“And it had plate armor- plate armor made of wood! Like the shingles on a house! The thing would have been torched if some poor sod didn’t die spearing it through the mouth. They got a monumental burial, and now the monster’s head has a place of honor in the Red Emperor’s trophy hall, I heard. We might get to see it, who knows.” As the fae speaks, the form of the boar becomes more detailed, displaying the shingle-like armor that had replaced its bristly fur along its back and sides. Now its tusks are more clearly defined as well, large and faceted and ready to piece even through the toughest of platemail.

“How do you do this? The shadow puppeteering you’re doing right now?” She seizes the moment to ask, as she’s antsy to learn more about it. The fae blinks at her, then it dawns on them.

“Oooh yeah, I did say I’ll explain you how to do this stuff. Okay uuuh, let’ see…” The shadow boar melts away like ascending smoke as the fae looks around for something, then it picks a mug off the table and hands it over to her. It’ a simple earthenware mug, slightly pear shaped, painted white and with a stylized rooster painted on the side in a beautiful blue glaze, framed with leafy fronds. “Okay so, I need you to analyze this mug really well, like I need you to be able to see it in your mind’s eye perfectly. Then-“  With that the fae hands her a simple wooden spoon. “I want you to envision that this is the mug. Or the other way around, make the mug into a spoon, whichever you want.”

“So just, envision it? That seems way too simple.” She frowns at the two items, and then at Piney, not making the connection.

“Well of course you need to channel magic into it, but, yeah it can be as simple as that. Come on you can make ice from nothing, this shouldn’t be that hard, least magically speaking.” The fae pats her arm in an encouraging fashion, and settles down. Sypha finds herself frowning at the mug as she turns it in her hands to see every side and angle of it. The spiderweb like crackles in the glaze, the streaks of the brushstroke, the small chip of the brim, the craftsman signature on the bottom that’s been left un-glazed.

“I think I’m- here goes nothing.” She announces, setting the cup down in favor of the spoon. Its handle has been polished from repeated use, feels almost damp, rather oily to the touch. But she tries to not focus on that, instead she tries to picture the mug. The crackles, the brushstrokes, the chipping, the signature. Slowly but surely, the spoon is no more, and instead  semi-ethereal mug takes form in her hands. She hears a gasp, and she grits her teeth as the form quivers, her fingers twitching slightly as she steers her focus back on it, and it starts rematerializing once more. Eventually, the illusory copy finally crystallizes, and it looks quite much like the authentic one, even the weight and feel of it translates well.

“Hmm, this looks promising, I gotta say. Can I have it?” The fae is once more on her feet to check her creation, and she hands the fake mug over. The handle does its job of being a handle, and the fae turns it into their hands, giving it all a thorough look. “Hmmmmm…. I gotta say, I’m impressed that you managed to translate the weight as well. Let me try something.” And with that, Piney hops off the bench and pitter-patters out of the room. Sypha blinks, and she looks over at the two, hoping for some answer. Trevor looks just as confused as her, all the while he’s taking a bite from some bread, still tending to his plate as the exchange occurs. On the other hand Adrian attempts to stand up, but resumes to leaning back to try to see into the hallway.

“What are you trying to do there?” He calls out, furrowing a brow.

“Illusions fade with distance or with time!” The fae bellows from quite a distance. “And it seems like distance is doing it for this!” Piney wastes no time in sauntering back into the kitchen, judging by the sound of hurried footsteps before the fae skids back in with an awful squeaking noise. “All in all, convincing illusion, nine out of ten, would entrust you to steal someone’s mugs and replace them with spoons. That’s going to make drinking a chore.”

“Is it bad that I can’t make it work from afar?” Now it’s her time to furrow a brow, as the fae plops back besides her and puts the former mug now spoon on the tabletop.

“Oh, no not at all, it’s not unusual. Usually to counteract this you’d use like, a transportable sigil. A seal.” With that the fae plucks a scale from the hem of their dress. “I usually use these, scribble or scratch in a sigil, tie them to the item you need to illusion up, and bada-bing bada-boom, until the sigil gets knocked off or degrades, it’s gonna stand strong.” Sypha takes the scale from the fae and looks it over; it emanates a light aura of magic, but other than that, it’s a giant cone scale, the size of an average apricot, but flat and brown, unlike the average apricot.

“What else can you do with illusions? How can you make illusions without turning something into another thing? Can you use illusion to become invisible?” She asks as she produces an icicle with a fine tip, and tries her hand at carving something into the scale as suggested, using the icicle like it’s a pen. With all the letter writing she’s gotten more exercise in that department so no need to lose steam right now.

“Illusioning things up out of nothing is a bit more complicated, especially if you’re trying to recreate living things that move and make noises. And invisibility, eeeeeeeeh… That’s really advanced, even I’m working on it. I usually go for camouflage and stick to the walls and stealth.” The fae shrugs before looking over at what she’s doing. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s my um, sigil.” She holds up the scale, revealing the words **BE INVISIBLE** carved in on the inside of it. “… I don’t know how to make sigils. It’s quite an art to make them, you know.” Upon seeing this, the fae sighs and gives her a half-lidded, exasperated look.

“Well good thinking to separate the words in two lines at least.” They grumble, seeming truly unimpressed.

“That’s not encouraging at all, teach.” Trevor finds his way in the conversation, giving Piney the same look.

“Well there’s only one way to find out if this works or if it’s a waste of fae magic.” She concludes, sounding a bit more defensive than she intended, and she stands up, clutching the scale as she shoves it into her pocket. In a blink, the world goes black, and she yelps in surprise, before fishing the scale out. The world makes itself seen again; both Trevor and Adrian are on their feet now, eyes wide with surprise, while Piney looks flabbergasted.

“Did… it work?” She asks, carefully. Trevor now looks positively mortified, which is kind of adorable, in some odd way.

“You where gone right there!” he points at her dramatically. “One second you where here, the other you where not here. Don’t do that again without a warning, I’m gonna have a heart attack.” He concludes as he drops back on the bench, looking spent.

“That, was a surprise, I must admit.” Adrian tilts his head politely, raising a brow. “Although by your reaction it was not fool-proof.”

“Y-yeah, I couldn’t see anything. It’s like someone blindfolded me.” She looks back at the scale in her hand, then at the fae. “Do you think I could bypass that issue?”

“Hmmmm… Maybe maybe-“ Piney is once again up and is looking over on the scale. “-you could add additions to it? Maybe in a circle? I can help you with that.”

 

After that little event at the kitchen table, the four take matters back into the main hall, for a final repetition before time comes. For the first time since after they’ve left, Sypha can feel some true tension in the air, as the reality of their situation finally settles. If they don’t succeed, the Fair folk will have a conflict that might bleed into their world, and potentially cause just as much death and suffering as  Dracula’s attack. More directly, if they fail, her and Trevor will be taken by the Green Court, and she does not trust that the Emperor will be any more benevolent or kind than Dracula, even if his intention does not directly involve hurting humans. Just the thought of it makes her shudder, like an ice cube is slowly gliding down her spine.

“You look tense.” Piney notes, as she sits beside them by a pillar, while Adrian walks up to Trevor for one final try.

“What if this other Emperor denies our request? After all, it seems quite on the nose, don’t you think?” She pulls her knees to her chest, trying to quell the whirlpool in her stomach.

“You’re not entirely wrong there.” The fae admits, wringing their hands. “I gave Notorious the best description of the item that I could, he’ll make it sound like he wants the thing for himself, y’know, with a little charisma and all that.”

“But even then, I doubt that he can’t refuse him, or give him a fake. Then what?” She looks over at the fae, just the mere though making her bring her knees even closer. She’s struggling to keep her composure, and she knows it’s visible on her, but she doesn’t care to try to hide it. She’ll need to save that energy for later.

“Well then, I suggest you help me fill these blanks in.” And with that the fae shows her two other scales alongside the one she inscripted; each has a circle of some script she’s yet seen scratched into them.

“Do you think that that’ll work?”  She asks, taking the scales and looking them over.

“I mean, I do intend to come with you, so yes.” Piney squares their shoulders, trying to look confident. “I’ll mostly stick to you guys, but if – and I am even praying to God – we’ll need to take that stupid necklace with our own hands, there will be one extra set of eyes and hands to recover it.”

“So this might as well become a robbery.” She muses, as she idly watches the two men putting a show. Trevor runs from one corner of the room towards Adrian, and leaps at him – Adrian catches him and uses his momentum to carry them in a twirl, before he launches Trevor off him, but keeps hold of his hand, so he does a twirl himself, pivoting on his left leg as he throws his right arm out in a dramatic gesture. They seem to be having fun, despite the situation and despite the risks, and she feels herself smiling again.

“A robbery means that the people you’re stealing from don’t know that you’re there, what we’re doing is a heist.” And with that the fae stands up and claps, catching the attention of the two. “Bravo! That was pretty jammy I gotta say! Alright, I suggest y’all take a break, relax, choose what weapons you’ll be bringing, and by sunset be back here.”

“Sunset will be due soon, if my approximation is correct.” Adrian raises a brow, and Sypha proceeds to stand up to join them. “Where are you planning to go?”

“Just putting the final touches on the fae ring, and psyching myself up to not run for the hills screaming.” Piney admits, in a sing-along tone as they gesture before wringing their hands again.

“I hope you do not intend to do actually run for the hills. After all, if I remember correctly, your life is also on the line.” He crosses his arms and tilts his head slightly.

“I know, I knoooow.” Piney’s shoulders droop along with their arms, as if they’re suddenly boneless and made of lead. “I’m trying to stay positive here Mr. Notorious, but honestly, the reality of this, and the risks, and what’s at stake, it’s gettin’ to me.”

“Okay hey look.” Trevor holds up his hands as if to stop them, and everyone turns their attention to him. He looks taken aback for a moment, but then he continues. “I know this is stressful, I mean, my life’s on the line here too, very much, but I can’t like, really waste time and energy worrying. We have a plan, let’s focus on making it work, okay?” He looks over at Piney, who doesn’t look one bit better than before. “Look I’m not great with words here, I’m trying.”

“It worked on me.” She murmurs as she puts a hand on his shoulder, and offers him a timid smile. Trevor looks up at her, settling his gaze on her for a good moment, then he offers her a smile and a pat on the shoulder. A gesture of encouragement, simple and effective.

“Riiiight. Will preserve my energy for later so tonight’s dinner is whatever’s edible, I’m going out for a minute, need myself some fresh air.” And with that Piney turns around to leave, their steps echoing softly through the cavernous main hall, managing to open the door on their own once they get there.

“Well, that’s a change in mood.” Trevor announces to no one in particular, as he puts his hands on his hips. “Who’s hungry?”

“I’ll have some bread, maybe it’ll calm my nerves.” She announces to him, and takes his hand to go along with him. Adrian tags along as well, taking her hand into his. She smiles, feeling at ease alongside them, even if just momentarily.

In the kitchen, Trevor takes it on himself to get everyone everything,  until Adrian steps in to help him find the things, leaving Sypha to sit by herself at the table. She crosses her arms on the tabletop and rests her chin on her forearms, looking at nothing in particular, as she wrestles with her worries. She can’t deny that there isn’t a possibility for things to go wrong, but wasting time and energy on them makes no sense, especially if it’s things she has no control. Her fingers clench instinctively into fists, and she closes her eyes to focus all this restless energy into something else. She remembers the illusion boar that the fae showed them, how easy it came to them, and how beautiful it looked. Her mind clings to the smokiness, the shadow, and drifts to other beasts that she’s seen or heard of: mermaids, tigers, crocodiles, unicorns, elephants, deer. Her mind settles on something relatively familiar, that she’s seen before and knew well: a wolf. And it is a crystal clear image, as if it’s standing before her: large, intimidating, with an intelligent gaze and smoky, dark fur. She opens her eyes in the dimly lit kitchen, and she focuses on  the floor, where shadows begin to swarm and grow into something new. Within moments, the wolf in her mind comes to reality, standing before the fireplace, giving her a cryptic look.

“This is beautiful.” She would had jumped hadn’t it been Adrian, as he settles a plate before her.

“Thank you, thought I’d try this.” She doesn’t break eye contact, afraid that it might make it vanish into thin air, much like the smoke it’s seemingly made from. On the other hand, Trevor simply sits to her right, only acknowledging the illusion when he gives her thumbs up. Then Adrian sits too, to her left, and she snaps from her reverie, when she concludes that the two had framed her. Thankfully the bench is forgivingly long enough for all of them to sit comfortably. Trevor pays no mind now to the wolf illusion going up in wisps, he’s got better things to do, like cutting up bread and bacon for everyone; she looks over to Adrian, who is looking intrigued at where the illusion stood.

“It looked very nice indeed, although I don’t think that having it stare back at you would make for a very convincing animal, especially if it’s meant to be a distraction.” He notes, before glancing back at her.

“Oh come on, would your first time be as good as that?” Trevor interjects as he reaches over her to deposit a slice of bacon into her plate.

“No, I wouldn’t, I am simply stating the obvious.” Adrian shrugs casually.

“It’ll take some exercising, I’ll probably be able to make it look real, and not like it’s from a dream.” She pats Trevor on the shoulder nonetheless, sketching a smile.

“Eh fine, you’re hungry Notorious?” It takes him a second to realize what he just said, and he snorts, shaking his head. “Bloody hell it’s getting to me.”

“It’s better that you just remember that part. And yes please.” Adrian maintains a somber attitude as he passes the plate over.

“You won’t let me live that down ever, will you?” He looks equally dejected and disappointed, but offers him the food nonetheless.

“Until the day I’ll get back to you, I won’t.” He responds almost cheerfully, which makes them both raise a brow.

“And how you intend on getting back to him, if I may ask?” She eyes him over, curiously, as he raises the bread to his mouth, and he pauses.

“I’ll think about it. I can’t decide which method would me most appropriate.” There’s a playful glint in his eye, and before she can ask anything he takes a bite. She closes her mouth and looks over to Trevor, who seems a little on edge by this declaration, which prompts her to nudge him in the side.

“Wh-what?!” He barks out, surprised and offended, and she narrows her eyes at him, unable to contain a smile.

“You’re in trouble, did you hear. You could have gotten a matching nickname, but nope, you’ll get something else, probably worse.”  She pokes him again in the side, unable to contain her amusement any longer.

“A minute ago you where panicking over tonight’s events, and now you’re poking fun at me? What a prick.” Trevor leans away from her, giving her a mean look as he crosses his arms.

“What you have is a lover’s quarrel, come on now, lighten up.” She scoffs and turns her attention to her plate, and after a beat, Trevor follows her example. They dine in peace for a while, silence settling over them; it’s a comfortable silence, it doesn’t feel suffocating, nor does she feel like it needs to be filled with anything.  The only sounds that fill the air now is the distant sound of rain and the present sound of a knife cutting food.

“Adrian? I’m curious now.” She eventually can’t ignore this thought that’s been in the back of her mind for at least a day now. “You’ve been dining with us so far, but do you need to supplement it?”

“With blood, you mean?” He’s probably been anticipating such a question as he seems unphased by it. “I don’t need all that much to be fair, I can go on longer without it.”

“Will uh, you be needing any anytime soon?” Trevor hesitates a little as he splits the rest of the bread between them, and slightly hesitates to reach over to Adrian, who eyes him weirdly.

“I have livestock who work just as well, and there’s game out in the woods. However-“ There’s a sudden shift of mood as Trevor tenses up, and she looks over to Adrian studiously, almost cautiously. “ – if any of you would be so kind to offer, I would graciously accept it.” To her surprise, he quickly looks away from them, and she can swear that he’s gotten a bit more flushed just by admitting this.

“Is it, an intimate thing?” She finds herself leaning towards him ever so slightly, to watch his reaction.

“Considering who you are to me, then yes, it can be. Sharing blood willingly is a rather precious gesture.” He seems to be struggling to not turn away completely from them, as his cheeks gain a really rosy color, much to her amusement and endearment.

“Oh come on, why are you getting embarrassed by that?” Trevor reaches from behind her to jab him in the side, which makes him squeak and turn towards them in surprise. “You’re acting like a fair maiden around her first crush, man. Get yourself together.”

“Now Trev don’t be mean, you’re not any better either.” She jabs him back, and she sticks her tongue out at him when he gives her that mean look again.

“Well aren’t you being quite the sassy one as of lately.” He tries to sound upset, but he can’t help but to let a smile appear on his face, and he jabs her back in the side.

“I will call you out for being a dummy, you dummy.” She giggles at the jab and returns it, leading to a little exchange of playful jabs and laughter, at which Adrian sits back and watches them, bearing an amused grin.

“Hey-hey quit it, what are you, a child?” He scoots aside, wrapping his arms around himself to stop the jabbing, which does not work as she’s relentless about it.

“You’re also on the act like one you big dummy!” With one last jab, Trevor finds himself with no more bench underneath him, and he unceremoniously falls over, and in the fall he manages to kick her arm away before he meets the floor. Adrian jumps onto his feet and hurries over to his side, helping him up, as she retracts her arm and rubs the sore spot. Serves her right, she thinks.

“You two are pure comedy, but please, don’t actually hurt yourselves.” Adrian sighs, as he practically scoops Trevor off the floor and lifts him up bridal style. And before he can protest too much, a door swings in the distance, announcing the fae’s return. “I suppose the act is over now, then. Are you all ready?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She declares, getting up and stepping aside. Trevor shoots her a mild glare, before he’s set down, and he sulks away first. She sighs and looks at Adrian, who simply shrugs, and gestures her to go ahead.

“A’right a’right a’riiight, everyone’s assembled? Niiice.” Piney announces, once they arrive before the main door. Their arms are crossed, and their hair is slightly damp, as the rain has yet to show signs of stopping.

“I’m ready for whatever magic you got in store for us, and, well, whatever the hell expects us tonight.” Trevor shrugs as he stops before them,  with Adrian and Sypha close behind.

“That’s good, that’s cool, m-hmm, yup. Before anything though, you and Mr. Notorious will be needing these.” The fae holds up a pair of sacks, much like the one in which Trevor’s weapons, and their pot, where stashed in. And obviously he gives the sacks a questioning look, before looking over the fae with the same distrust. “Oh come on, you really think I’d shoot myself in the foot like that?”

“But why do we need these in the first place?” He asks, and hesitantly takes them, and passes one to Adrian.

“Well for one, they’re moleskin bags, won’t change shape or lose shape regardless of contents, and second, your weapons, I can feel ‘em from here, every fae at the party will feel ‘em, especially Notorious'  sword. Fancy shmancy blade right there.” The fae gestures as it speaks, and as they point at Adrian, he shifts his coat aside to reveal the sword at his hip, which glides out of its scabbard and descends into the given sack. He ties up the bag and gives it a toss, to tests its weight and handfeel. After a moment of pondering, he nods in approval, and adds the small sack to where the sword would hang. Trevor takes a beat to look his bag over, and with a sigh he starts piling his things in it: throwing knives, short sword, and Morning Star. At the sight of the whip, Piney recoils by taking a wide step back.

“Alright, with that out of the way, here are the charms now.” From the sleeve of its coat, the fae pulls three new scales, and inspects each before handing them off. “Into the pocket they go to do their thing. You can access said pocket when you need to.”

Sypha takes a beat to look over hers, and notices how it’s been inscribed with the sketch itself of the garb, rather than words; it’s probably easier to use the image of the thing as opposed to describing it. As she does so the door opens and they proceed outside. It’s almost dark, and the rain has lessened to a gentle pitter-patter on the nearby trees, like a pleasant and relaxing tune. The three of them tag after the fae, which leads them into the tree line, and after a few minutes of walking, they all stop near a half-broken, dead tree. Above the opening, there seems to be more light coming through, highlighting the ring of mushrooms on the ground before them. The sigh, once curious and almost endearing to her, gives her an odd sort of chill, and she finds herself grabbing the hand of the nearest man to her. Trevor also seems to be on the same page, as his hand finds her first and they both old on tight, before a third pair of hands separates them . She looks up and finds Adrian taking the middle position, and he offers her a gentle, reassuring smile.

“Okay final tips: Notorious will be leading the whole thing, so uh, unless you’re directly addressed, best to not step in. And like before, don’t eat anything while there, don’t drink anything while there, don’t dance with strangers, yadda yadda yadda. All good?” The fae turns to face them, and Sypha loops her arm around Adrian’s, holding tight as she nods. The anticipation has left her somewhat speechless, as she just wants to get over with it. Adrian’s hold gives her some comfort and sense of balance, but nothing will be as good as actually finishing with this. Adrian nods curtly, and looks over at them.

“Well, I believe it is time now.” He announces, as the light grows silvery and bright above them, and she deposits the magic scale in her pocket, along with them. The fae makes an approving sound and makes a dash for them, only for it to seemingly vanish. Until she spots the positively tiny fae, no bigger than a field mouse, now peeking from under Adrian’s collar; he seems to be aware of its location and, quite frankly, seems to not care at all. She smiles at the fae, at Adrian and Trevor, and they share a look with her, followed by a short nod, acknowledging each other’s readiness and positively ridiculous outfit, and in near perfect tandem, they step into the ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what I accomplished here since there's not much besides fluff in here. I was kind of getting cold feet over this whole shtick, but I decided to power through. This chapter is the weakest plot wise of them all, I really dragged my feet near the end, but eventually, I did it. Also altered the tags a bit cause I first wrote them on the fly and iiiii dunno how much they apply now. Lesson learned: add tags as you go. I'll do my best to make the next chapter more exciting, least there's something that's going to happen there. In the meantime I hope you enjoy this last installment in this, experiment.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp that, was a start. Next chapter's in progress, but should be out by the end of this week. Stay tuned for some real fairy hours, peeps.


End file.
